


Such Beautiful Things

by Herbert_Holmes



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Flashbacks, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slash, Star Trek: The Next Generation (season one), wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-03-29 09:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19017283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herbert_Holmes/pseuds/Herbert_Holmes
Summary: Following the loss of Data in Nemesis, Deanna Troi looks back to another loss from her past, a relationship that could have sent her life in a far different direction had she not lost the person to a senseless act of violence. During the Enterprise D's first year, on a strange mission to the planet Betazed, Deanna Troi and Tasha Yar discover that they are far more compatible than either of them would ever have thought, and embark on a life-changing romance that will define them both.





	1. Prologue - Dearly Departed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Geordi help each other through a tough time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place right after Nemesis

Deanna Troi sat, alone, in her quarters aboard the _Enterprise_ _E_. They weren’t really her quarters anymore, though, were they? At present, it was more a temporary state of “home” that would soon be changing. Home was going to be the _Titan_ , where she’d be starting a new life with her husband. And so, for  now, she was drifting in an uncomfortable limbo between homes. The _Enterprise_ had just arrived back at spacedock following its devastating confrontation with Shinzon, and her crew was busily distracting themselves with work, getting the ship back to pristine order.

But distraction wasn’t enough for Deanna..

She knew exactly what she was feeling, and what she should be doing. Loss was a powerful creature, draping one in a blanket of grief, blotting out everything else, even the ones who were there to offer support. So many people on the ship were facing similar feelings, but there was no time to help them. She had other work to do, of course, but she couldn’t do  _ her _ job. There was so little time for mental healing, just now. She was already exhausted with blocking out the roiling grief and uncertainty that flowed through the ship like a dark fog. She needed to see a counselor herself, to gain some sort of hold on her grief so she could better serve her crew. 

She couldn’t even speak to Will about what had happened without breaking down. It had all been so senseless. Shinzon was gone, and his awful viceroy could no longer hurt her, but then they had also lost Data as well as a number of other good crewpeople Deanna had failed to get to know as well as she had known her crew on the  _ Enterprise D _ . And yet, Data’s sacrifice had accomplished something else. She hadn’t told anyone, but for a moment, right before the ship exploded, she had felt a flicker of something, an emotion, distant but distinct. A breath of vibrant consciousness wrapped around the echo of a word:  _ Goodbye _ .

In saving Picard, Data had transcended his programming, even without his emotion chip, and he’d finally achieved what he’d always wanted. He’d saved them all.

She knew that many others were reeling from the loss, and suddenly felt a wave of guilt that she was here, alone, thinking about it. She should be helping. 

And then suddenly, a voice from the past bubbled up through her memories, carrying with it the weight of another great loss.  _ Death is that state in which one exists only in the memory of others. Which is why it is not an end. No goodbyes. Just good memories _ .

Deanna brushed tears from her cheek and smiled suddenly, remembering everything that had come before those sad words. It had been another life. A place when her life had reached a fork in the road, and she hadn’t had time to choose a direction because fate had chosen for her. But when the choice had existed in her life, it had been wonderful. And she felt the memory of a touch on her shoulder, accompanied by a voice she’d kept, gleaming and warm, in her heart. 

“Thank you,” she said out loud, though the person she was talking to couldn’t answer. Remembering that great loss somehow helped her begin to deal with the raw shocking loss of Data. The new and old wounds came together and the sting diffused somewhat. She could move on, eventually. It wouldn’t be easy, and the memory of her dear friend and all his wonderful eccentricities would stay with her all her life, but she had enough beautiful memories, as well as the privilege of being the only person among Data’s closest friends to have been able to sense the moment when he had truly become human.

Her door chimed softly.

“Come in,” she said, swiping away a fresh glaze of tears from her cheeks.

Geordi stepped in, carrying a small container. “Is this a bad time?” he asked.

“No, of course not. Please sit down.”

Geordi looked about as beaten down as she felt. He had been doing his best to keep everything bottled up since he had the most work to do as the  _ Enterprise  _ limped back to spacedock, but Deanna could feel his hurt and desolation. She wanted to fold him into a hug, but knew that he needed time before he would be able to deal with his loss. 

“I, uh, I wanted to give you something.”

Deanna cocked her head. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment and then handed her the box. “Worf and I started cleaning out . . . cleaning out his quarters, and I found that. I wasn’t sure if I should or not. But it seemed right.”

Deanna opened it and drew out a transparent hexagonal object. Realization of what it was hit her a millisecond later and she gasped, nearly dropping it. “How . . . ?” Her words died as fresh tears sprang into her eyes.

Geordi’s voice was quiet. “I guess my hunch was right. Now, I’m not looking to pry. But something told me you would want this.”

“And here I thought I was the mind-reader,” she said, nearly sobbing as she set the object onto a nearby table and activated the static hologram of Tasha Yar which Data had saved following her funeral. She stood there, strong and vital and radiant, smiling as though nothing in the world was wrong. To his credit, Geordi didn’t ask anything, so she said, “I didn’t think it was that obvious.”

Geordi smiled. “Well, to be honest, it wasn’t. But Data made an offhand comment to me that sort of busted the whole thing wide open.” At Deanna’s widening eyes, he quickly added, “He didn’t even realize what it was he was commenting on, and I told him not to bring it up with anyone else. You know how he was that first year. He cornered me in engineering to ask about relationships. I gave a clumsy, terrible definition, and he replied with something like, ‘Ah, like Counselor Troi and Lieutenant Yar!’ and then he just sort of nodded and kept walking.”

Deanna couldn’t help but smile, her anxiety at having a private part of her life laid bare so boldly softened by the memory of their android friend’s lack of understanding of social mores in his early months aboard the  _ Enterprise _ . “Tasha wasn’t sure how Captain Picard would feel about . . . about us. I’d told her his reaction when I’d brought up my prior relationship with Will, and she felt he would be uncomfortable with a current relationship between two of his senior staff., especially if one of them was his chief of security.”

Geordi smiled. “I don’t think he would have minded.”

Deanna nodded. “That’s what I said, but we decided to keep things quiet for the time being.”

“Well, I didn’t say a word to anyone,” Geordi said. “To be honest, I didn’t even put a lot of stock in what Data said. I figured he was just confused.”

She took a deep breath. “No, he was right. I guess there’s nothing wrong with talking about it now. It happened fifteen years ago.”

“Does . . . ?”

“Yes, Will knows,” Deanna said, giving Geordi a conspiratorial smile. “We’ve always been completely open to one another about our other relationships. We never wanted jealousy between us after we parted ways.”

“It must have worked,” Geordi said, “since now you’re happily married.”

Deanna felt a familiar thrill at the mention of the word ‘married,’ which was a pleasant change from the clutch of grief.  It still seemed completely surreal, especially since she and Will were both leaving the  _ Enterprise  _ for the  _ Titan _ . She would be taking on the responsibilities of the new ship’s diplomatic officer, and Will Riker would be captain. Their new crew was shaping up to be the most diverse in the fleet, and a whole galaxy of new experiences waited for them. She couldn’t help but be excited, but now, in this single moment, she wondered what it would have been like if Tasha had survived. Would they have stayed together? Would Will have taken a captaincy earlier in his career? 

“Would you like something, Geordi?” Deanna asked, rising and moving to the replicator. “I have a moment of free time before I need to start moving everything over to the  _ Titan _ .”

Geordi rose. “Actually, I have a lot of work to get done.”

“I understand.”

He paused. “But I’ve got a great team. I think they can do without me for a short while. How about a coffee?”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you . . .”

“No, it’s fine. Too be honest, I think I need a moment to process this all. You can call it a counseling session if you want.”

She smiled, wondering if he meant it as a counseling session for her or for him. “Computer, one Betazoid mocha with whipped cream and a--”

“Make that two,” Geordi added quickly.

“--and another of the same.”

The two glass mugs materialized with a hum.

“So, what makes it a Betazoid mocha?” Geordi asked as he accepted the coffee from Deanna.

“A hit of warm spices,” she said, holding the mug between her hands enjoying the blissful warmth, “and three kinds of chocolate.”

He took a tentative sip. And then took another.

The silence between them became warm and comfortable, a healing quiet. Deanna allowed her empathic senses to open up somewhat and she sensed Geordi’s thoughts growing less chaotic. She enjoyed the company, more so than she thought she would. Geordi was always a placid person to be around. He had a way of making even the strangest situations seem fixable.

Even this one.

They finished their drinks, the calm mood of the quiet quarters as restful as a hot spring.

“Well, I guess I’ve got to go.”

“Thanks for stopping by, Geordi,” Deanna said, rising with him. “And thank you so much for bringing this.” She gestured to the hologram, then in a moment of impulse, reached out to hug him. He accepted it gratefully. She could feel in the relaxing tension of his shoulders that he hadn’t thought he needed it, but was grateful for it when it was offered.

“I hope I’ll get to see you before you go on to the  _ Titan _ ,” he said.

“Absolutely.”

When he left, Deanna felt better than she had in as long as she could remember, even though it had only been a day since Data’s death. She looked down at the hologram and picked it up, surprised at how detailed the little hologram was. “No goodbyes. Just good memories,” she said, out loud.

And then, as she set to packing up her quarters, she found herself thinking of Tasha, and how strange events had brought them together fifteen years ago.


	2. The New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two super capable gals find themselves adjusting to life on board a starship. Also, one of said gals thinks the other is super adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past stuff takes place shortly before "The Naked Now."

_Enterprise E - 2379_

_Deanna picked up the small hologram and stared at it, remembering everything it didn’t show, the subtle changes in facial expression, the sound of her voice, and how it changed when she got angry. And then she remembered how long it took for them to get to that point. It had taken something bigger than the two of them to make them realize what they were both too idiotic to notice on their own. In that first month, however, they were like two trees separated by a field, so distant the idea that one could influence the other in any meaningful way seemed ludicrous._

_She set the hologram down, remembering their first tentative interactions as she geared herself up to start packing._

***

Enterprise D - 2364

    Deanna sat at a small table in Ten Forward, nursing a hot chocolate and observing. Every community had a different emotional texture, a different flavour, and Deanna was still getting used to this Galaxy-class ship and its crew. Built for long-term exploration, it was more like a space station than a starship in many ways. The presence of families and household pets--a controversial decision when the class of starship was being developed--gave the ship a different sort of “resting heart rate.” During situations of crisis, tensions ran very high as many became hyper aware that any kind of accident could endanger their loved ones, many of them civilians. But during times of peace, feelings of contentment and comfort filled the ship, allowing Deanna to let down her mental barriers and enjoy the pervading sense of goodwill suffusing the whole community.

    But there was another facet to these quieter moments that Deanna was becoming aware of, a sort of melancholy realization that she didn’t have many ties to this crew. She liked not having family on board--which mostly just meant the tidal wave of bombast that was her mother--and she liked the independence that came from the single life. Her prior relationship with Commander William Riker was a fleeting ghost that occasionally passed by her, but he had been nothing but respectful of her distance, and they had found a professional working relationship balance, their past association seeming a childish fling and little more.

    But she still felt very much an outsider, especially on the bridge. Her role in shipboard operations was as yet unclear to her. She was a therapist. In one-on-one sessions with her patients, she was in her element. But on the bridge, she wasn’t sure what Captain Picard expected of her, aside from reading the emotions of others in tense situations. But even then, she often pointed out obvious feelings that the captain could easily enough infer from reading facial cues.

    She wanted to take charge more, wanted to get involved in the diplomacy part of starship operations, especially first contact scenarios, something she had studied at length at the Academy. But she was still getting a feel for Captain Picard’s style. He seemed conservative, but he could be aggressive when the situation called for it. She also noted a deep well of insecurity that he kept well-hidden, and wasn’t yet sure how to navigate the bizarre maze of his expectations.  

Everyone was adapting, of course. Picard had hurled Will into a terrifying manual docking of the drive and saucer sections of the ship practically minutes after he’d come on at Farpoint. And LaForge desperately wanted to make the transition to engineering, but he kept getting shuffled farther down the waiting list as they tried out chief engineer after chief engineer. She wasn’t alone in her feelings, but still she felt uncertain. No matter how successful Deanna had been in her career, she couldn’t help feeling like a “little one” among all these confident officers, a sentiment she could no doubt thank her mother for. She did appreciate that her position allowed her to utilize variant uniform styles, as officers would often feel more comfortable talking to one who didn’t wear any visible sign of rank, but she noticed that it also made it very easy for people to underestimate her. In diplomatic scenarios, this could either be good or bad. She wished she could test that out.

Her train of thought was interrupted by someone stepping into Ten Forward, her bearing strong and her intent written in the lines of her movement. Deanna couldn’t help but watch Natasha Yar approach the bar and request a beverage. Of all the crewpeople that regularly served on the bridge, Deanna found Yar the most intriguing. She was difficult to read as she kept a tight hold on her emotions, but she had a vulnerability to her, but a vulnerability that spoke of a deep capacity for empathy and justice rather than any kind of weakness. She cloaked herself in it, and found strength in it. Other crewmembers had made offhand comments about Yar’s intensity, but Deanna saw it more as an overwhelming need to help those who needed it, and a frustration when she couldn’t.

The fact that Deanna also took note of Yar’s beautiful ice-blue eyes and the way her face practically gleamed when she smiled factored into her fascination as well, but she kept that part tightly hidden away. While none in Starfleet would have a problem with a relationship between two female officers, Deanna was cautious of how Picard would react to two senior bridge officers together. He had seemed relieved when she informed him of her and Will’s prior relationship being over. Whether that had anything to do with the fact that it was his first officer who was involved or not, she wasn’t sure. Deep down, she had an inkling that he wouldn’t mind, ultimately, as long as he was sure it wouldn’t affect their ability to do their job, but she didn’t feel like she knew him well enough to test that bridge.

Besides, she and Yar had barely exchanged three words at any one time since Farpoint. She wasn’t entirely sure how Yar fell on the spectrum of human sexuality, either, and probing her emotions to find out would be a terrible breach of her privacy. On top of that, Deanna wasn’t even sure if she wanted a relationship at this stage in her life. She was still adjusting to her position aboard this starship, and introducing the needs of another into her personal landscape seemed like it would divide her focus.

On the other hand, she had been feeling very tense and guarded lately. It would be nice to have someone with whom she could relax and be herself around. She dismissed the thought, reminding herself that Yar most likely didn’t have the slightest interest.

Lieutenant Yar took a sip of her drink and turned to survey the room, her eyes lighting on Troi. She gave a polite smile and nodded to her.

Deanna nodded back, fighting the urge to feign such extreme aloofness that she gave the impression of rudeness. After a second, Deanna raised her eyebrows and gestured to the seat next to her. Yar seemed to relax suddenly and approached her, the strong confident gait softening to something more fluid and casual. For whatever reason, her mother’s voice floated up to the surface of her memory: _Now, just be yourself, Little One. Let them see the real you_. She’d gotten that advice before delivering a speech to her debate team in school on Betazed. Truth be told, she had been less nervous then.

“Thank you, Counselor,” Yar said, taking her seat with ease.

“Deanna, please.”

“Deanna. Alright. Tasha’s fine, too.”

A few seconds passed as they both took a quiet sip of their drinks.

“So,” Deanna began, putting on her Detached Therapist Mask, “How are you settling in?”

Tasha nodded. “Okay, I guess. I’ve got a good team.”

“A bit of an evasive answer, isn’t it?”

The guarded smile softened into something more genuine. “You can read that in my emotions?”

“I don’t need to,” Deanna added with a answering smile. “Running the Federation flagship’s security team is a big responsibility, especially since you’re not taking over the job from someone else. You’re setting precedents. I would be terrified in your shoes.”

“I’m not so much terrified,” Tasha said, her shoulders relaxing, “as I am unsure.”

“About what?”

She tensed. “I don’t think it’s really that important, to be honest.”

“It’s up to you,” Deanna said, her tone neutral, “but if you want to talk, I am available.”

Tasha took a drink and then let out a breath. “I know you probably understand Captain Picard a lot better than I do since you have his confidence, but I feel like I’m playing a game of charades with him, desperate to figure out what he expects, especially of me. I don’t want to come across as this unstable hothead.”

“I don’t think he sees you that way,” Deanna said, her professional detachment beginning to crack ever so slightly. “To be perfectly honest, I’m still figuring things out, myself. We all are.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” Tasha said, her tone suggesting that she didn’t completely believe Deanna. “I’ll figure it out, soon enough, though.”

Reverting fully to therapist mode, Deanna said, “When learning how to relate to a new person, especially a colleague, many people create in their minds simplistic versions of other people that don’t have much to do with the actual person. It’s a collection of generalizations, even stereotypes, that, over time, is replaced by the more nuanced understanding of who someone is and what they expect. Maladjusted people often cling to those stereotypes in hurtful ways, but everyone else realizes that such temporary snapshots are meant to be overwritten in their minds with the reality of a person’s personality: their likes, and their motivations. Right now, we are all our jobs and maybe one personality trait, and not much else. For example, after Farpoint, I’m sure many see me as ‘the over-emotional counselor.’”

“I don’t see you that way!” Tasha protested, looking somewhat worried.

“Of course, you don’t,” Deanna reassured her, trying not to laugh. “All I’m saying is, soon enough their first impression of me will be re-written by what I hope is a more favourable portrait of who I am, so long as I don’t empathically read any more trapped space jellyfish.”

Tasha laughed, though it was more guarded and polite.

Deanna continued. “And the same will happen with you. I know Captain Picard respects your opinions, and puts a great deal of faith in your abilities. Believe me, you wouldn’t be on this ship if he didn’t believe you could do it. I say just give him time to add an understanding of who you are as a person to his knowledge of your service record and achievements.”

“That makes sense,” Tasha said, finishing her drink. The tension returned to the corner of her mouth and her shoulders, though, so it was obvious she was still unconvinced. “And I appreciate how nice you’re being. You don’t need to worry about me, Counselor. I’ll find my rhythm soon enough.” She rose, her posture stiff once more. “Thanks for letting me vent.” And then she was walking toward the door, exiting as she had arrived, with determined purpose.

Deanna felt she should have said something else, but she knew that when a person’s guard was up like that, it was nearly impossible to break through their armour. And she got the distinct impression that she didn’t really need to convince Tasha of her own value. She already knew it, but was preparing herself for being left to figure everything out herself.

Deanna only knew fragments of what Tasha had gone through growing up in the violent chaos of Turkana IV, but it was obvious that she had had to survive by developing a very thick skin, relying on herself more than anyone else. And, on a starship, relying on others was a fact of life.

What Tasha needed, more than a counselor, at this point, was a friend. Deanna wasn’t sure she had made a very good first impression, however. _She didn’t need to hear a self-important therapist speech_ , she chided herself, finishing her hot chocolate. _She needed someone who would just listen and not pass_ _judgement_.

Deanna rose and decided that Captain Picard’s expectations of her were the least of her worries. At present, she had a new mission: she needed to befriend Tasha Yar.


	3. Sturm und Drang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna is forced to reevaluate her thoughts on Tasha, but then a unique emergency rears its head and screws everything up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after "The Naked Now," which can exist as a kind of Chapter 1.5 if you want to watch it before reading this chapter.

_Enterprise E - 2379_

_Deanna knew she should be focusing on her office, and backing up patient files, but she needed something simpler to shift her brain into “packing mode.” But now, staring at the inside of her closet, she continued to feel overwhelmed. They were just clothes. Many could be recycled, easily. Some were so hideous, it would be a joy to finally toss them into matter reclamation. But despite the task’s simplicity, she found herself thinking of other ways she could distract herself. If only she had the power of the Q and could skip right to the part where everything was ready on the_ Titan _and they were heading out on their first mission._

_But then she remembered how frustrating Q was._

_Fighting past the malaise, she reached into the closet and grabbed the first thing her hands touched. Seeing what it was, she drew it out and smiled._

_Of course._

_The flowy tropical-coloured garment wasn’t really in fashion anymore, but she had resisted getting rid of it, rationalizing to herself that she could dress it up somehow in the future. The truth was, this filmy tunic had been where it had started: this, and a strange intoxicating illness that had swept through the ship._

 ***

Enterprise D - 2364

Deanna had never been more confused or conflicted in her life.

She could dismiss it all as a result of a bizarre illness, a fluke and nothing more, but there had been something beneath the blurry drunken chaos, a deep-seated need for something that Deanna had sensed. Looking back on the moment, she felt suddenly ashamed for such an accidental look inside Tasha’s inner thoughts, and a large part of her wanted to simply forget it and move on. But the other part wanted to speak to Tasha and apologise, and perhaps seek out some sort of confirmation of what she had felt.

The strange illness that had swept through the ship had been dealt with, and the _Enterprise_ had managed to avoid being crushed by an errant stellar fragment at the last minute, but the experience had shaken up the crew. Memories of what had happened left many avoiding others’ eyes, and Ten Forward was quieter than it usually was, with many staying in their quarters, wishing the memories of what strange things they had done while under the influence would pass away.

Her schedule had very quickly filled up with officers and residents coming to her to discuss deep-seated issues that had come out during the crisis. The intoxication had brought out personality traits that many had long worked to move beyond, and had set fire to old neuroses or insecurities. One officer, an alcoholic who had managed his addiction for decades, felt suddenly that he had fallen off the wagon, even though he hadn’t imbibed anything during the crisis. The loss of control had brought back terrifying memories of his younger years, and he was doubting his ability to keep his posting aboard the _Enterprise_. Everyone needed her help, and she was happy to give it, but when it came to what she needed, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to seek out help.

She hadn’t had much time to think about the brief moment that had passed between her and Tasha, but whenever she found herself with a few moments to herself, the scene replayed itself: Tasha in her quarters, trying on Deanna’s clothes, her mind awhirl with confusion as feelings and wants long kept under tight control bubbled forth. _“You always wear such beautiful clothes off duty,”_ she’d said, her inner thoughts broadcasting her need for touch and comfort so boldly, Deanna couldn’t shut out her emotions in time. There was more going on than a need for a new wardrobe. Tasha came to her for something she would never normally ask for.

_“Tasha, I feel you’re very uncertain. That you’re fighting something.”_

And then Tasha had grabbed her hand, not in a rough insistent way, in a delicate hesitant way as though she was at war with her own limbs, pulling away and reaching out at the same time. Their fingers had twined together for just a moment before Tasha left her quarters, delirious, uncertain, and dizzyingly uninhibited.

But now the crisis was past and everyone was fighting to forget what had happened. Deanna knew she should as well. Her professional training told her to move on and push it aside. But Tasha wasn’t a patient, and Deanna was quickly realising that should Tasha ever request counselling, Deanna would have to defer to one of her colleagues. It was obvious that, where Tasha was concerned, Deanna’s ability to be clinically detached was severely hindered. There was something about her that made Deanna want to throw her ordered schedule and neatly arrayed career plans out the window and dive into parts unknown, even if it jeopardised everything.

The experience had confused a great many things, but it had starkly clarified that Deanna couldn’t just be Tasha’s friend. She knew she would want more, and the wanting of it now seemed wildly inappropriate. The best thing to do would be to back away and give Tasha the space she needed without Deanna’s interference. Whatever Tasha needed, she would need to find it with the help of others.

“Counselor Troi to the bridge.” Captain Picard’s voice came through her communicator, a welcome distraction from her thoughts.

She tapped the insignia. “Right away, sir.”

Her next appointment was in an hour, so she should have time, but she placed a note on her schedule just in case, sending a message to her patient that she may be late, and, if so, to either put in a request to reschedule, or to book an appointment with one of the other counsellors.

When she arrived on the bridge, Worf directed her to the Captain’s ready room. But when she entered, she found herself standing next to Tasha Yar who looked as tense as a cadet up for inspection. As soon as the door closed behind Deanna, Captain Picard rose to greet her from behind his desk.

“Thank you for coming, Counselor, Lieutenant.”He directed the two of them to sit and then did so himself.

“How may I help you, Captain?” Deanna asked, sensing that the Captain was being evasive.

“It seems we have something of a mystery on Betazed,” he said, his face calm and his voice even. “We’ve lost contact, but the message fragment we received before that happened leads us to believe that they are facing a planetary emergency.”

Deanna’s eyes widened, but it was Tasha who spoke first. “What’s happening?”

“Is my mother alright?” Deanna asked, before Picard could answer.

His face softened and he turned to Deanna first. “We haven’t heard from your mother, yet. And as to what’s happening, we just have this.” He tapped a command into his monitor and played the message, ragged with interference and reverberating echoes.

 _“To anyone--range. This is the--of Betazed-zed. We are registering a--around the planet--no warning--communication--affecting our ability to-to-to--help--.”_ The recording cut off with a sudden deep boom like an explosion.

The look on Deanna’s face must have been terrified because Picard’s brow softened. “I figured you would want to get to Betazed as soon as possible.”

“How soon can we make it?” She fought to keep her voice level and calm, but a tremor escaped through it nonetheless.

“The _Enterprise_ is scheduled to initiate first contact protocols with the Dejemm, but the _Hood_ has been dispatched to Betazed and will be passing close to us, and I want you on that ship. If nothing else, your connections with the Betazoid government should give you the access you need to render aid in any way you can. I’ve read of your diplomatic experience, Counselor. I’m sending Lieutenant Yar with you.” He turned to Tasha. “Coordinate with Betazoid Security if they require any help, but your primary mission is to take stock of the situation and report back in case Starfleet needs to assign any more ships. I’m putting you in command of the _Hood’s_ security contingent for this mission.”

Both women nodded. Deanna felt a curious wave of relief and apprehension from Tasha, followed by a curious distant glow of sorts that she couldn’t make out without a more active reading of the security chief’s emotional state.

“Thank you, sir,” Deanna said, simply.

Picard nodded curtly in response and dismissed the women with a word.

Once on the bridge, Tasha turned to Deanna and said, “We should probably get going now. We can requisition a shuttle and intercept the _Hood_ as it passes through this sector so the _Enterprise_ can be on their way.”

The decisive nature of Tasha’s voice cut through the fog of terror at what was happening to her planet, and she nodded. “Yes. I’ll meet you in the shuttlebay in twenty minutes.”

“Make it thirty?” Tasha asked. “I need to leave some instructions with my team.

“I’ll meet you there.”

They shared a turbolift for a few silent minutes, and then went their separate ways. Deanna flew through her office once she arrived, cancelled all her appointments and sent a message to the two other counselors that they would need to fill in for her for the time being. Then, she made a stop at her quarters, changed into a proper Starfleet uniform after a moment’s deliberation, and rushed off to the shuttlebay.

This was her chance to do something bigger, something that would use the full range of her abilities. It hurt her that her own world might be in danger, but she was in a position where she could help them. Terror began to drain away, replaced with the professional calm she had learned at the Academy. She had work to do, and her mother was depending on her.

She tried not to think of Tasha, especially being in close proximity to her for an extended period, but the immediacy of the danger to Betazed allowed her professional detachment to override the distractions of attraction. She could do this.

She hoped.


	4. Worlds Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present - Deanna gets a visit from Worf.  
> Past - Deanna and Tasha, in a shuttle, being tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we're not between episodes, continuity will make more sense from here on out.  
> The stuff in the present also takes character stuff and events from the end of the A Time To... series of novels as well as the first Titan novel.

_Enterprise E - 2379_

_Deanna was cramming old clothes into the matter reclamation unit when her door chimed again. Tapping the control, the old worn-out garments dissolved in a sparkling hum._

_“Come in,” she said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes._

_Worf, looking sheepish, entered, holding a PADD in both hands, as though expecting it to escape at any minute._

_“Worf,” Deanna said with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Following the loss of Data, the announcement had just been made that Worf would be moving into the position of Picard’s first officer. Deanna knew he would be perfect for the role, especially after the frustrating end to his time as the Federation ambassador to Qo’noS._

_“I hope I am not bothering you, Counselor.”_

_“Worf, we’ve known each other for fifteen years. You’ve never once bothered me.”_

_He sighed in his own gruff way and then looked at the PADD, and then at her. “I debated whether or not to give this to you, but I think it would be best. Your security chief on the_ Titan _may find use for it.”_

_Deanna had long ago learned of the stiff distant way Worf expressed his friendship. In many ways, he was a lot like a regal cat who preferred solitude most days, and always found ways to be accidentally near other people when he was in the mood for company. She found her eyes growing suddenly misty. “That’s so sweet, Worf.” She reached out and took the PADD._

_“Would you care to join me?”_

_He bristled in a showy manner. “No, no, I would not want to disturb you.”_

_Translation: I am not in the mood for_ that _much social interaction._

_“I understand,” she said, and Worf relaxed visibly, grateful not to have to rebuff any other pushing on her part. She held up the PADD. Well, I am sure Commander Keru will . . .” She trailed off as she got her first good look at what was on it._

_Security Standards and Procedures - Enterprise D_

_By Lieutenant Natasha Yar_

_Deanna looked up and met Worf’s eyes. He was as stoic as ever, but there was a sudden softening of his eyes. She blinked away a sudden rush of emotion._

_"When I assumed Lieutenant Yar’s post, I saw no need to alter any of her protocols. They were very . . . efficient. I made sure a copy was included in the_ Enterprise E _’s directory as well. And . . .” he trailed off a bit before barreling on, “ . . .and I knew that you, of all people, would appreciate being able to pass them on to Commander Keru as he assumes his new post on your ship.”_

_Buried deep beneath all the professional rationalizing and dutiful considerations, Deanna heard the hidden condolences and good faith coming through loud and clear. Worf would not be one to openly discuss something he knew Deanna had kept very private, but she could sense the relief that came from finally offering up everything Worf had never openly said to her concerning her relationship with Tasha._

_She didn’t ask him how he knew. She simply hugged the PADD to her chest and said, “Thank you, Worf,” infusing the words with as much unspoken acknowledgment of the loss of Worf’s wife, Jadzia, five years prior as she could._

_He seemed to pick up on it because he approached her slowly and folded her into a hug, the two of them sharing a moment of healing grief for the loved ones they had both lost._

_When he left, Deanna looked at the PADD, remembering the days when both she and Tasha had been so terrified of not being taken seriously, even when given a mission where the fate of an entire planet had hung in the balance._

 ***

Shuttlecraft Galileo - 2364

It was completely silent for so long that Deanna felt she needed to break through the quiet tedium or else go mad. “Any news on the _Hood’_ s ETA?” she asked, as casually as possible.

Tasha looked at the readout. “They should be here any minute,” she said.

The _Enterprise_ had warped away only fifteen minutes prior, but it felt like several hours had passed. The Galileo was on course to Betazed, but the _Hood_ was much faster. They should have arrived by now.

Deanna shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

There was a breath, and then both women said, at the same time, “I just wanted to say,” before cutting off and apologising.

“You go first,” Deanna said.

“No, you go. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Deanna chose her words very carefully. “I wanted to apologise for not being more helpful during the polywater intoxication crisis. You came to me for help, and I didn’t do anything.”

Tasha cringed, not just physically, but emotionally. It was like a sudden crumpling of the air between them that Deanna sensed in a way she couldn’t adequately describe. Her empathic sense allowed her to describe what emotion she was feeling, but the way her mind interpreted various emotions often made specifics very hard to put into words. “Can we not talk about that?” Then Tasha added, “I acted like a complete idiot, and I made a lot of people uncomfortable, and I would just like to forget it ever happened.”

Deanna wished she could forget, but the memory of Tasha’s fingers entwined in hers kept coming back. She wondered if she and was included in the list of people Tasha felt she had acted inappropriately towards. Their interaction could very well have appeared completely innocent to any outsider. And Tasha didn’t seem to direct her comment at her specifically. “I understand,” she said, dropping the subject. “What were you going to say?”

Tasha waited for a few beats, staring straight forward at the starfield the whole while. “I was going to say I hope your planet is alright.”

Deanna didn’t really want to dwell on what may or may not be happening on Betazed at present, but she appreciated the sentiment. “I hope so, too.”

“I’ve not had a chance to visit yet. What’s it like?”

This put Deanna on firmer territory, which she appreciated. “Some call it a gardener’s nightmare, but I quite like it. My people only like wild landscapes in small doses, so most everything else is carefully landscaped and maintained. There’s a belief that ordered environments lead to ordered thoughts, but I think we just have a tendency towards being controlling.”

Tasha smiled at that, though she kept her gaze forward. “I look forward to seeing it,” she said, almost distantly.

The mood inside the shuttle calmed somewhat, but the effect was disturbed by a proximity alarm from the console. Deanna brought up the sensor display while Tasha slowed the shuttle. “It’s the _Hood_ ,” Deanna confirmed, as the Excelsior-class ship dropped out of warp nearby, quickly dwarfing the shuttle.

“This is Shuttlecraft _Galileo_ requesting permission to dock,” Tasha said, after opening a channel.

The reply came swiftly. “ _This is_ Hood _. Permission granted,_ Galileo.”

Deanna suddenly found herself wishing the _Hood_ had taken longer to arrive, irrationally wishing she could have continued talking with Tasha, even though that meant that it would take longer to reach her home planet. In that brief moment, they had achieved a sort of comfortable peace, and Deanna wished more than anything to get back to that, a clean slate free of awkwardness or tension where they could start anew. She wasn’t even sure where the strange tension between them came from, but it was nice to suddenly experience a moment with Tasha without that, even if it was a painful reminder that she would most likely never be able to get past that point, get closer to Tasha, and even begin to forge something with her.

Tasha docked the shuttle and soon enough, they heard the tenor of the _Hood_ ’s engines change as it jumped back to warp. They were on their way to Betazed, but now that they were surrounded by a full crew with a job to do, Deanna realized that she wouldn’t get hardly any time to spend with Tasha.

But then the more logical side of her reminded her that it was probably for the best.


	5. Double, Toil, Trouble, Etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hood arrives at Betazed.

Hood - 2364

Deanna was expecting the _Hood_ to be a flurry of chaotic activity, but in reality, the crew seemed quite at ease. A tremor of uncertainty flowed through the ship, but it was well-managed, creating a very different feeling from the _Enterprise_. This vessel’s command structure was established, and it was instantly clear that the crew trusted their captain.The only wild cards in this equation were Tasha and herself.

As they followed Captain DeSoto to the bridge, Tasha’s uncertainty at getting temporary command of this ship’s security contingent flowed from her like a visible aura. Deanna wished she could hold her hand, but even if that were even remotely appropriate, she wasn’t sure she had very much calm of her own to impart to Tasha.

“Lieutenant,” DeSoto began, turning to Tasha, “I must apologise for the task ahead of you. We are not generally a ship with a very large security contingent, so many of the task force you will be heading up are on loan from Starbase Four because that’s where we happened to be when we got this mission. As such, you will be getting a group of fantastic officers . . . who are used to different procedures. I’m giving you the authority to operate at your own discretion. Feel free to institute any procedures from the _Enterprise_ that you feel are necessary.”

Deanna felt a small spike in anxiety from Tasha as she spoke. “How many officers are there in the task force?” she asked, her confident voice hiding any apprehension she was feeling.

“One hundred fifty,” DeSoto replied, proudly.

Deanna took the stunned silence that followed as an opportunity to speak up. “Have we received any further communication from Betazed?”

DeSoto shook his head. “We have received repeats of the previous message, but they have become so distorted that, each repeat is less and less helpful.”

“If I may,” Deanna said, “I’d like to have a look at that message. Betazoid emergency transmissions are sent on a very specific carrier wave, meant to increase range, but it often leaves the transmission open to interference moreso than many others.”

“My communications officer suspected that,” DeSoto agreed as the turbolift doors opened and they stepped out onto the bridge. “I’m glad to have you aboard, Commander.”

It felt more than a little bizarre to be addressed by her rank rather than title. On the _Enterprise_ , the crew respected her just fine, but her position as ship’s counselor often allowed them to forget that she held the rank of lieutenant commander. Here, on this ship, she was suddenly a different person, it seemed, a visiting officer lending aid rather than a counselor responsible for the ship’s mental health.

It was very odd, in a way, and she found she quite liked it.

“Lieutenant Commander Troi,” DeSoto began, gesturing to a Vulcan who rose in greeting, “you’ll be pairing up with my communications officer, Ensign Vek, until we reach Betazed.” He turned to Tasha, “And Lieutenant Yar, I’d like you to meet Lieutenant Grant, my tactical officer. He’ll be serving as your second in command in the task force.”

Tasha approached the dark-skinned human and shook his hand. He had an easy air about him, and smiled freely, a sharp contrast to Tasha’s tense rigidity. She was like a diamond, cut to precision, next to a precious stone tumbled into flowing curves on a riverbed. Deanna had the sudden irrational thought that this man was more suited to Tasha than she herself was, but quickly dismissed it, angry at herself for such intrusive and unproductive thoughts.

“Now that that’s done,” the captain said, “it’s time we get started. We’ll be arriving at Betazed in two hours. We’ll be dropping out of warp just outside the system, and if it’s safe, we’ll approach the planet. Let’s get this done, people.”

Deanna turned to watch Tasha leave, and could have sworn that, just before they disappeared behind the closing turbolift doors, Tasha’s eyes met hers.

She knew she had to have been reading too much into it, though. In an unfamiliar situation, someone would naturally seek out the eyes of something or someone familiar. It was reflex.

Deanna sighed and joined the Vulcan communications officer at their post. Vek was a bit fussy, and didn’t seem to much enjoy working with another officer, but he became more accepting when Deanna explained the strange frequencies Betazoid emergency messages employed, giving him what he needed to begin reconstructing the message.

“It’s an ingenious system,” he said, at one point. “I do not think that, were they to use any Federation standard communication signals, we would have received any part of the message whatsoever.”

Deanna nodded. “My mother spoke of it constantly. Every time an ambassador from any other world visited, she always suggested they adopt it as a Federation Standard. So far, no one has.”

The two of them worked steadily for the next two hours, but they were only able to recover about a quarter of the message. They were able to play it for the Captain just as they dropped out of warp.

“ _To anyone in range. This is the Ruling--of Betazed-zed. We are registering an increase in--around the planet, manifesting as--anomaly. There was no warning. It is--with our communication--affecting our ability to-to-to--. Please help--”_

“What’s happening to the planet. Ops?” the captain asked, rising.

“Sensors are detecting a large mass very near the planet.”

“An asteroid?”

“No, sir. It’s not registering as completely solid.”

“Can we get closer?”

“I’m detecting some sort of low-level field permeating the area around the planet.” A pause. “It registers as psionic in nature.”

DeSoto turned to Troi.

“It may be merely the result of a planet in distress, Captain,” she explained. “Often times younger Betazoids or the very old are unable to contain their telepathic powers and extreme fear can manifest in different ways. A global catastrophe of some kind would no doubt spark fear across the planet, amplifying the effect.”

“Are we in danger?”

“I don’t believe so, Captain, but I would caution your crew to be aware of any stray thoughts of emotions. It could be very distracting.”

“Noted,” the captain replied, returning to his chair. “Helm, take us to Betazed. Warp one.” Activating his communicator, he added, “Security, how are things going down there?”

Tasha’s voice came through the comm channel. “We’re ready, Captain. I’m leaving a contingent on board in case of any fallout from the psychic field we detected. The rest of us are ready to beam down when needed.”

Deanna’s heart pounded in her throat as they approached the planet. After a period of anxious quiet, the _Hood_ dropped out of warp again.

“Put the planet on screen.”

Deanna gasped.

“What am I seeing?” the captain said as the ops officer’s hands flew over the console.

Deanna took a quavering step forward, asking herself the same question. She blinked a few times in reflex to the double image on the screen. Betazed looked as though it had been copied, with the second planet intersecting with the first, like an afterimage. At the point where the two planets overlapped, the duplicate was hazy and indistinct, but on the far side, the planet was as solid as the original.

“The second planet registers as Betazed,” the ops officer said, “but it is in a state of quantum flux. It is intersecting with our universe from another, but only partially. I can’t be certain, but I suppose it’s being held in place by the Betazed from our universe.”

Deanna frowned, suddenly doubting the officer, though she knew there was no reason to. She wanted another answer, something she could wrap her mind around, something she could find a solution to. “Can you tell how it’s affecting the people?” she asked, striding over to the ops station.

The officer shook their head. “My data is sketchy at best, as is. I’m operating on guesswork.”

She wanted to get angry, but stopped herself. It would accomplish nothing. She suddenly felt completely alone, lost among strangers. She needed some kind of anchor to ground herself so she could think through what she was seeing.

She needed Tasha, irrational as that wish was.

“Take us into orbit,” the captain ordered, “and hail the capital city.”

“I can’t get an answer,” ops reported. “There are very strong fields of some sort of subspace energy blocking our instruments. I just lost sensors.”

And then suddenly, it was like a wall of something crashed into Deanna, washing through her, leaving her feel as though she was being tossed around in a whirling current. She felt disembodied and then suddenly someone was holding her, calling her name.

“Commander Troi!”

Captain DeSoto was holding her shoulders, propping her up. Her feet felt as though they were slowly regaining physical form, tingling underneath her as she found her footing. Her head ached, a deep stabbing pain; she suddenly felt cut off from everything, like she was in a soundproof room. She blinked.

“I . . . I can’t sense anything,” she said, the queasiness abating slowly. “My empathic abilities . . . they’re gone.”

She could feel a flicker deep within her, as though her abilities still existed, but they were being suppressed by something, crushed down. She felt suddenly irrationally angry. The one thing that made her especially useful to this mission was gone. Her ability to help was suddenly diminished.

Deanna felt suddenly violently alone, staring out at the impossible calamity that was threatening her planet.


	6. Descent into the Maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna investigates the mysterious anomaly afflicting Betazed

_Enterprise E - 2379_

“How’s the packing going?” _Beverly Crusher asked from the display in Deanna’s office._

_“As well as can be expected,” Deanna said, setting down a stack of PADDs and sitting down into her seat. “How are things at Starfleet Medical?”_

_Beverly smiled at that._ “Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.” _She paused, smirked, and then said,_ “I’ve only been here for two days, and I’m having an absolute blast. But I suppose I should say I’m drowning in work and missing the _Enterprise_ terribly.”

_“Thanks,” Deanna said. “That makes me feel so much better.”_

“To be honest, though,” _Beverly added, “_ I am actually jealous of you going off on the _Titan_ , getting back into exploration again after the war.”

_Deanna leaned forward. “And here I didn’t think you were really the starship doctor type.”_

“You’re probably right. I loved the _Enterprise_ , of course, but I have always felt more at home in a sprawling research hospital, drowning in experiments and medicine trials. But the _Enterprise_ challenged me in ways I never expected, and I think that’s a good thing. Keeps one on their toes.”

_“I suspect you didn’t call to request a posting on my new ship. We, unfortunately, have a CMO in mind.”_

“Damn,” _Beverly said with an exaggerated shake of her head,_ “Well, in that case, I did call about something else. How are you doing?”

_“Oh, is that all?”_

“I mean it, and not just as your doctor--well, former doctor. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to talk to anyone about . . . about what happened. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. I’m well aware that doctors make the worst patients, even psychologists.”

_Deanna’s initial desire to dismiss Beverly’s offer fell away, and she took a deep breath. “I actually wouldn’t mind talking, if you have a moment.”_

“Absolutely.”

_And the words just poured out. She wasn’t even sure where she was going, but it felt like she had to talk. She mentioned Data, and the moment she’d felt his apotheosis. She mentioned feeling guilty at not being more available to Worf following Jadzia’s death. She danced around her recent thoughts of Tasha, and then took the plunge, and told Beverly about how dealing with the loss of Data had churned up memories of her loss of Tasha, and everything that had lead up to it. And the instant she did so, she felt herself relaxing. It would take a while to get to the point where she felt normal again, but it felt good to take these first steps. Beverly didn’t speak much, but her expression conveyed nothing but loving friendship and acceptance._

_As Deanna spoke, her memories of Tasha coalesced into something other than a reminder of loss. She became a source of strength, a reminder of a time when Deanna had faced something overhwelmingly terrifying, and she’d made it through it._

***

 

Hood - 2364

“I want to go down there,” Deanna told Captain DeSoto, feeling disembodied once more, though she knew this was more to do with her own fear and not any anomalies. Without sensors, the _Hood_ was blind, and nothing could be gained from staring at the inexplicable strangeness of what was happening to Betazed. She had to do _something_.

“We have no idea what is happening,” DeSoto said, his expressions solidifying. “I cannot jeopardise anyone’s safety, especially with no way to use sensors or transporters.”

“I appreciate that, Captain, but I need to be down there. I’ll take a shuttle myself, if I have to.”

He sighed, a note of defeat creeping into the exhalation. “I won’t send you down alone.”

“I don’t want to jeopardise anyone else’s safety, either,” Deanna insisted. “I will know very quickly if it’s safe or not. Then, you can send another shuttle with the security detail behind me. We can all land together.”

DeSoto shook his head. “No, that’s crazy. If something goes wrong, you won’t have any help.”

“Then send someone with me,” Deanna said, fixing her gaze on his, the corners of her mouth hard.

A beat of silence, and then DeSoto relaxed slightly. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

Deanna relaxed. “This is something I need to do. I came here to help my planet. I can’t do that waiting up here while other people risk their lives.”  She felt giddy, as though short of air suddenly. She wasn’t even acting like herself. She _was_ the sort to watch from the distance, assess the situation, and then come up with a plan of action thoughtfully. Why was she suddenly so eager to rush headlong into unknown danger? She felt possessed, as though watching her own actions from a distance. But it was different from the prickle of telepathic fear that she was picking up from the planet. It was something else. It was her, but it was also . . . not her.

And then suddenly, a fragment of conversation floated up to the top of her awareness.

_“Why do you always have to charge into things, Mother?”_

_“Well why not? I’m tired of waiting for others to figure things out when I can take care of it just as easily.”_

As Captain DeSoto gave Deanna the go-ahead, she turned to the turbolift, silently thanking genetics and parenting that she had chosen this moment to become her mother.

***

The shuttle bay was abuzz with activity. Security and medical personnel were loading shuttles with relief supplies, dodging anti-grav units and other officers. The air was filled with shouted orders and the occasional curses.

 _“DeSoto to Troi,”_ came the voice from her communicator.

“Troi here.”

 _“I’ve assigned you the shuttlecraft_ Woolf _.”_

“Understood.”

_“We’ll launch the rest of the relief shuttles twenty minutes after you depart. If all seems fine, I want you all to land together. And, because I don’t like assigning single-officer missions, I’ve assigned you backup.”_

“Thank you, Captain.”

The _Hood’s_ six shuttlecraft were arranged alphabetically by name, each bearing the name of a famous Federation author. The _Woolf_ was the farthest away, closest to the bay doors. As she walked, a security officer stopped her. “You’ll give us the go ahead, when you’re ready, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, ensign. I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

“We’re ready, now. Don’t let the chaos fool you.”

She nodded and made her way to the shuttle. Stepping inside, she glanced toward the cockpit.

Tasha turned in her seat and gave a small smile. “I figured you’d prefer a familiar face, but if you’d like someone else . . .”

Deanna blinked as the other woman spoke and then said, “No, I’m glad you’re here, Tasha. I’m just surprised that the captain assigned the head of his security detail.”

Tasha’s smile warmed. “They know what they’re doing. Besides, if all goes well, we’ll land together and I’ll have them right where I need them.”

There was something else beneath Tasha’s words, but Deanna didn’t want to distract herself with idle fancies. Perhaps she was simply anxious and wanted to work with an officer she trusted, as Deanna did. She moved to the copilot seat, grateful that her headlong rush to go down to the planet alone had been rebuffed. She was a decent pilot, but she didn’t much care for piloting. As she sat down, she activated the sensor displays. “I’m going to put the sensors in active scan mode as we approach.”

Tasha powered up the engines. “Sounds good to me.”

Deanna turned toward Tasha and saw what she thought was a panicked expression on her face. She became suddenly angry at her lack of empathy. “We’ll be okay,” she said

Tasha turned to Deanna, her expression bewildered for a moment before she spoke. “Oh it wasn’t that . . . it’s . . . it’s not important. Just jitters.”

“Well, the sooner we figure out what’s going on, the better.”

“Agreed.” Tasha tapped her communicator. “ _Woolf_ to _Hood_ , request permission to depart.”

_“Permission granted.”_

The shuttle slid through the protective forceshield and out into open space, banking so that the strange double image of Betazed filled the forward windows.

“Which . . . one?” Tasha asked as they moved slowly closer.

Deanna’s hands flew over the sensor displays, fighting to gather as much data before the strange anomaly blanked them out just as they had on the _Hood_. “The planet seems fine. It’s only the shadow that’s exhibiting--” she broke off as her sensors crashed, overwhelmed by a power surge. “Well, that’s that. Let’s land on the planet, first. Hopefully someone there can explain what that shadow really is.”

“Understood,” Tasha said, her voice strained and formal.

Deanna wanted nothing more than to place a hand on Tasha’s and tell her that she didn’t have to cling so rigidly to protocol. Deanna only outranked Tasha by a single rank. And she preferred a more relaxed atmosphere, anyway. Her whole time in Starfleet, she had never reacted well to the officers who insisted that everyone behave as though part of a wartime military. That was one reason why she appreciated not having to wear a formal uniform if she didn’t want to. It forced people to see her as a person and not as a terrifying authority figure, which she didn’t want at all. But there was no tactful way to let Tasha know this in the current moment, so instead, she said, “The capital city of Medara has a landing area to its north. We should start there. It’s usually for diplomatic personnel, only, but I don’t think there will be much trouble.”

The corner of Tasha’a mouth curled slightly into a tight smile. “Should I start calling you Ambassador Troi?”

Deanna replied without thinking. “Oh my god, please don’t. I’m not THAT much like my mother.”

Tasha chuckled. “I’d like to meet your mother.”

Deanna regained her professional bearing and shook her head. “No, you don’t.”

As they approached the planet, Deanna noted that the tension in the craft had lessened. _Just be yourself_ , she reminded herself, frustrated that she was probably as outwardly tense as Tasha was. She may even be the cause of Tasha’s tension. _Just relax_.

“Approaching the atmosphere,” Tasha said, but the instant the small craft came in contact with the atmosphere, their displays began to flicker. “I’m losing power!”

Deanna didn’t think. She sent a simple message, text only, to the _Hood_ , strengthening the outgoing gain as much as was possible. Two seconds after she sent the message, the displays went completely dark.

The craft shuddered as the engines began to lose power.

Troi clutched the sides of her chair as the shuttlecraft plummeted toward Betazed, and she closed her eyes, hoping her SOS reached the _Hood_ in time for them to signal the other shuttles to turn back.

When she finally did open them, she saw the ground rushing up toward them as the shuttle’s failing thrusters roared at full power.


	7. Shattered World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha find themselves in unfamiliar environs.

_Enterprise E - 2379_

_Deanna sighed as she lowered herself into a chair. She’d finally finished organising her patient files and sent them off to the_ Titan _in an encrypted data burst. Her lower back ached, and a distant headache was gathering around the sides of her eyes. She had more work to do, but at least this part was done._

 _She looked around, noting how bare her office was. It had zero personality. On the_ Enterprise D _, she had not brought anything of her own to her office, to the point that the room often resembled the inside of a pastel egg. But she’d been more comfortable with herself by the time she’d moved to the_ Enterprise E _, and yet she hadn’t done anything to make her space at all calming or welcoming._

 _She wondered if patients would have felt more at ease if she’d included Betazoid artwork or even pictures of her family. Her mother had professional holophotos taken of herself twice a year, so there was no shortage of those, and Deanna had a few good pictures of her father. She even had one of her baby sister, Kestra, who’d tragically died at a young age. Her mother had kept it sealed in a lockbox until Deanna asked about it. But those were in her quarters, a world away from her professional life. It was a relief to know that she didn’t really have to pack anything up in her office because there wasn’t much_ to _pack up, but the realisation was still sad, a reminder of missed opportunities._

_She shook her head, banishing maudlin thoughts. She had accomplished so much in her career, and she was proud of a lot. There were good memories here, too. This had been the room where Will Riker, emboldened by the effects of the Ba’ku planet, had swept in, all giddy smiles and playful kisses and had reignited an old courtship. They had both gotten older and smarter, and he’d finally realised that he didn’t have to choose between her and his career. It had been bizarre at the time, but the delightful kind that makes you re-evaluate things._

_They had been friends for so long that getting back together had been so easy, like putting on your favourite shirt that you didn’t think was in style, only to discover that it went with everything you owned just as well as it had in the past. And now they were married, moving past coy promises and what-ifs and choosing what made sense in that moment. She didn’t have to sacrifice anything to be with him, career or personality-wise._

_Her thoughts wanted to begin playing over other what-ifs, though, images of Deanna and Tasha sharing quarters, relaxed in each others arms on a soft sofa, wrapped in a warm blanket. She banished those. As melancholy as they were, they were fantasies. She had good memories of Tasha, and even though tragedy had kept them from going further than they had, it was something Deanna would always treasure, a beautiful jewel amid her collection of personal treasures._

_It was ironic that such good memories came out of a time of crisis, but she couldn’t imagine things turning out any different than they had._

_She rose, let out a calming breath, and left her office aboard the_ Enterprise E _for the last time._

***

Shuttlecraft Woolf - 2364

Birdsong awoke Deanna as she blinked against the glare of sunlight pooling on her face through the cracked shuttle viewport. A distant sort of ache suffused her body, but she discovered quickly that she had the use of all her limbs. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked around and saw Tasha unconscious in her seat.

“Tasha,” she whispered, and then repeated it louder.

Tasha stirred and blinked a few times. When she spoke, her voice was gravelly. “Are you okay?”

Deanna wanted to smile at that being Tasha’s first question, but focused on the moment at hand. “I’m fine. You?”

“I think I’m fine. Why did we black out?”

Deanna put a hand to her head, feeling for any bruising or cuts. Nothing. “I don’t know. We didn’t hit hard enough to be knocked unconscious.” The shuttle’s thrusters had given out, but not before allowing them an ungraceful thudding landing. But though the shuttle was fairly banged up, neither she nor Tasha had suffered much trauma aside from whatever bruises the safety restraints left on them. The last thing she remembered was the crunch as the shuttle finally settled to a halt, and then it was as though she had been drugged. Sleep took her quickly, before she could even comment on it.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Tasha said, loosening her restraints and rising shakily from her seat to open the panel which contained the survival gear. “Find out where we are.”

Deanna joined her, grabbing the second pack. The shuttle’s systems were completely dead, so she wondered if any of the electronic survival gear would function. Ultimately, she decided to take everything, just in case. The pack was heavy, but she could manage. Tasha seemed to be even less bothered by the weight of her pack as they staggered out into an idyllic meadow.

“It’s beautiful,” Tasha said, distantly, scanning the horizon for anything helpful.

“This is a private estate,” Deanna said, looking around.

“How can you tell?”

Deanna walked over to a bluish stone jutting out of the ground and brushed away the dirt their crash had dusted it with. Underneath was a spiral shape inside an equilateral triangle. “Government land is always left exactly as is. But there’s an order to this place. If we can find the next stone, we can follow the trail either to the residence itself or to the edge of the land. Either way, we aren’t completely lost.”

“I’ll follow you,” Tasha said, the corner of her mouth twisting into a slight smirk.

Deanna smiled back, but then turned away, hiding her own answering smirk.

“Can I ask you something, Commander?” Tasha blurted out suddenly as they walked.

Deanna turned to her, startled. “Of course. And please, call me Deanna.”

“Have I . . . done something wrong?”

Deanna frowned. “Not at all. Do you mean the crash? That wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” Tasha said, shaking her head as though annoyed. “I mean, have I offended you at all?”

“Of course not. Why do you think that?”

Tasha sidestepped another marker stone and then looked up for the next one in the sequence. “This is probably completely ridiculous, but it always seems like you can’t ever look me in the eyes. And, all I can think of is that, during the . . . the polywater crisis, I did something that . . . that was improper with you.”

That caught Deanna so off guard that she stopped walking completely. “You think I’m upset with you?”

“I wasn’t sure.”

“Absolutely not. Tasha, you weren’t yourself. We all behave differently when our sense of social--” She stopped. “No, you don’t want a speech.” She smiled, and Tasha smiled back. “I admit, I was a little surprised to find you in my quarters trying on my clothes, but nothing you said was offensive or hurtful in any way.” They started walking again.

“Breaking and entering and wearing someone else’s clothes might be considered offensive.”

Deanna laughed at that. “Perhaps.” She paused, and then said, “If you ever want to borrow anything of mine, you’re free to do so. Or I can replicate you a duplicate of anything you like.”

Tasha’s face contorted suddenly, before settling into a horrified blush. “Oh god, I would never . . . I mean, you really don’t . . .” She shook her head. “To be honest I don’t really know why I went to your quarters at all. I . . . I should have stayed there, or let you take me to sickbay. I . . . well, I acted like an idiot.”

“You don’t have to tell me about anything that happened that day. You weren’t in your right mind.”

“But that’s the thing,” Tasha said, pointing out another marker stone, “I think I was. I wasn’t so worried about what people thought and what I was or wasn’t allowed to think or do, and, I feel like I was the most honest with myself in that moment. So much repressed stuff just sort of bubbled up and I couldn’t stop it.”

“It may not be repression,” Deanna said, sliding smoothly into Therapist Mode. “People with higher self-confidence often think before they act a great deal. There are many behaviours they avoid simply because it’s not right for the situation.”

Tasha’s expression darkened. “It’s nice of you to assume I am as confident as you think.”

“Based on what I know of you, I think that’s fair. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s not that,” Tasha said. “I . . . I keep a great deal about myself private, but then there are other things that I probably _should_ keep private that end up exploding out whether I like it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one on the _Enterprise_ wants to hear about all the tragedy of my youth. And yet, I bring it up constantly.”

“You have a healthy relationship with past trauma,” Deanna said, keeping her voice gentle. “It’s not a hidden kernel of anger and fear that gnaws at you. You keep it where you can see it. And no one on the _Enterprise_ thinks any less of you for it. You’re a very professional and reliable officer.”

“I just wish I could bring out the parts of me that matter, rather than the pain.”

“Like what?” Deanna asked. “What’s something about yourself that you’d like to share?”

Tasha regarded her for the briefest of moments, unspoken words milliseconds from being let out, and then she shook her head and looked ahead. “I think I see something up ahead.”

It was like a gate had come crashing down between them suddenly.

Deanna followed her gaze, a bit bewildered by the sudden change in Tasha. She could see a building of some kind in the distance. She wished she could read Tasha's emotions, but she was armoured up as tight as if she were wearing layers of chain mail. Asking anything would only make her retreat further, so she said nothing.

But a part of her wondered what it was Tasha had been about to say, what she had wanted to say. And she suspected it had been something she herself also wanted to say.

And so they walked toward the distant building, not saying anything.


	8. Wanderers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha meet someone on the planet

_Enterprise E - 2379_

_Deanna took a deep breath before stepping into Captain Picard’s ready room, unsure of why she felt so nervous._

_He rose, smiling. “Deanna.”_

_Another breath. And then, “Permission to disembark, Captain?”_

_He seemed to deflate a little. “So soon?”_

_“Yes, sir. I’d like to start setting up my office on the_ Titan _.”_

_“Oh, well in that case, permission granted.” He gave an easy smile. “Here I thought you were simply itching to be done with me.”_

_She laughed, her eyes beginning to sparkle with tears. “Of course not, Captain.”_

_“I believe that I granted you permission to disembark,” Picard said, mock serious. “As a result, I do believe you are no longer a member of my crew. Which means . . .” he trailed off with the flair of a Shakespearean actor and picked up a transparent crystal from his desk and inspected it idly before continuing, “you can call me Jean-Luc, Deanna.” His smile returned._

_"_ _Thank you, Jean-Luc,” Deanna said, the tears coming freely, now._

_“Oh come now,” he said, setting the crystal down and approaching her, “I’m hardly worth such a fuss.”_

_She drew him into a comforting hug, something she never would have dreamed of ever doing even five years ago. The stern, implacable captain who’d so intimidated and confused her during her early years on the_ Enterprise D _had relaxed into himself, grown more confident, and had developed a capacity for such warmth and compassion that he seemed a different person entirely._

 _She pulled away, feeling as though she’d just spent hours sobbing. She was exhilarated, exhausted, and refreshed. There had been many hugs as of late, but this one felt like the most necessary of them all, a reminder of everything she’d done and learned and experienced while serving on the_ Enterprise _. A reminder of the passage of time, and the lessons it brings._

 _“Oh, I have something for you, Deanna,” Picard said, turning to his desk. “Something to take with you to the_ Titan _.” He stepped around his desk, reached down, and drew up a simple container._

_She took it from him, frowning. It wasn’t heavy.._

_“I was given this years ago, with the instructions to give it to you whenever you left the_ Enterprise _. I suppose I should have given it to you following the destruction of the last ship, but once they gave us this new vessel, and you stayed on, I decided to wait. Now, I don’t know exactly what it is, but I do know who gave it to me, and I’m devastated that she couldn’t be here to watch you open it.”_

_“She?” Deanna looked up, and then down at the box, and then back up, realization dawning in her eyes._

_Picard nodded. “Tasha wasn’t sure if she would get transferred off the ship before you or vice versa, but she said it was important that you received this during a time of great transition._

_Deanna opened the box._

_And the tears began flowing once more. She lifted the small book--its cover a masterwork in embossed and painted linen--from the box, and opened it._

_Picard moved to her side so he could get a look. “Extraordinary craftsmanship,” he said, awed._

_She flipped through the book, dazed, searching for the poem she knew was in it. As she searched, she said. “It’s a collection of poetry by a Betazoid writer I’ve long admired. I actually met him once. His work is so vibrant and expressive.”_

_She knew the instant she found the right poem because there was a small handwritten note in the corner._

_My Dearest Deanna,_

_Look not to the shadows behind you but to the sunlight before you._

_Love, Tasha_

_She showed Picard the poem in question, and he read, solemn and awed._

_“She quoted this poem . . .” he said, trailing off._

_“At her funeral, yes.” Deanna said. “It’s a portrait of someone helping another through their grief at losing a sister. I read it to her once, and she appreciated the optimism of the final lines.”_

_In response, her eyes flicked down to the familiar passage and she read, hearing Tasha’s voice speaking them out loud to her, across the span of time:_

_Death is that state_

_In which one exists only_

_In the memory of others_

_Which is why_

_It is not an_

_End._

***

Betazed - 2364

Deanna and Tasha jumped when the front door of the stately cottage flew open. A Betazoid man, looking wan and terrified, stepped out, his expression fluctuating between relief and terror. Strangely enough, Deanna was able to get vague flashes of his emotions, but they came and went infrequently, as though they were being transmitted on a jammed wavelength. She considered the strange effect this planet was having on her. She had lost all her empathic abilities in orbit, but now, it was as though she was somewhat shielded, like a tide pool amid wave-splashed rocks, and could get vague impressions here and there.

“You’re from Starfleet,” the man said.

Tasha stepped forward. “We’ve come to help, but we don’t know much of what’s happened. Our shuttle crashed and we’re trying to reach--”

“Nothing works!” the man said, his voice rising in pitch. “Not even my telepathy.”

“When did this happen?” Deanna asked, keeping her voice calm.

“Yesterday,” he said. The ground trembled and that thing appeared in the sky. Everything stopped working properly and I found I couldn’t sense anything, though I get flashes now and again.”

“The same thing has happened to me,” Deanna said.

“You’re Betazoid?”

“Half-Betazoid.”

He seemed to relax. “Well, if you’d like to come in, I can fill you in.” They followed him through the door.

“My name’s Deanna Troi,” she said, “and this is Natasha Yar. We have a ship in orbit, but no way to safely send down supplies or personnel.”

“I’m,” he paused, then said, “I’m Ulwen Faria.”

Deanna blinked. “The poet?”

He gave a sheepish smile.

Deanna wanted nothing more than to gush to him about how much she adored his writing, but the seriousness of the situation quickly overrode that. “Do you need anything at present? We brought some emergency equipment, but I’m not sure if it will work.”

“Communications are down everywhere,” he said, sadly. “Even if you could somehow manage to send a message, no one could receive it. My replicator is having problems due to the interference, but I have enough fresh food to tide me over for a while.”

“Do you know what the interference is?” Tasha asked, as he directed them into a sitting room whose walls were lined with landscape paintings of various styles.

“No idea,” Faria said. “I’ve never heard of anything like it. Most instruments won’t work, my telepathy is spotty, and periodically, I get hit with an intense wave of drowsiness. It’s all I can do to stay awake.”

“The same thing happened to us after we crashed,” Tasha explained. “I couldn’t stay awake.”

“Is it an EM field?” Tasha asked.

Faria shook his head. “I don’t think so. Some devices work, just nothing complex. I can turn my replicator on, but not replicate anything.”

“We need to get to Medara,” Deanna asked, hoping for something useful.

“I need to, as well,” Faria said. “My sister lives there, and I need to know that she’s alright.”

“Do you have any ground transport?”

He shook his head. “I don’t . . .” He trailed off. “But I do know someone who would. Their estate is within walking distance, but it will be quite a hike.”

“We can manage,” Tasha said.

“I know you can,” he said with a smile. “But I’m an old man, and I don’t think I’d be much help.”

“We can see if their transport is available and then come back for you,” Deanna suggested.

“I’ll give you the directions, but you really should wait until morning,” he said. “You look like you need rest. Were either of you hurt in your crash?”

They both shook their heads, and Tasha said, “We won’t impose on you.”

“It’s no imposition. Here, let me make some tea. It won’t be replicated, so it’ll be strong. I hope you don’t mind.”

They both mumbled thanks as he left to go to the kitchen. Deanna felt suddenly tense, not because of anything Faria had said, but because she realised that she would have to sit here for the day, unable to do anything. She had no more understanding of what was going on than she had before. She needed to _do_ something, not sit and drink tea. But at the same time, she was exhausted and deeply unsettled at not having access to her empathic abilities, even more so because she knew they were there, just out of reach. Sleep would be welcome at present, but she knew she’d never be able to sleep.

When she had been hiking through field and forest, she could distract herself, but sitting still in a beautiful room filled with books and getting the chance to talk to a writer she adored, it was like she had small creatures crawling up and down her spine. In any other situation, this would be an ideal evening, but right now, it was a frustrating distraction. She turned toward Tasha, who looked unsettled and frustrated as well.

“I don’t know what to do,” Tasha said, her voice almost quavering. “I wish I could help, but I’m just sitting here.”

“I know,” Deanna said, wishing she could say something more helpful. “But he’s right. We should rest before heading out tomorrow. I don’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do. Besides, maybe the Betazoid government will have figured out a way to reestablish communications by then. It’s not like they’re helpless.”

“I know,” Tasha said, “but that just makes me feel even more insignificant. Why are we here, at all? How can we help, if there are so many people already trying to solve this? I feel like I don’t really matter, in the grand scheme of things.”

“You do matter,” Deanna said, a little more forcefully than she intended. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed Tasha’s hand before pulling her hand away. “You do. We have a mission to do, and we can still help. I know we can.”

She looked up to meet Tasha’s eyes, but noticed she wasn’t looking at her. She was looking at her hand. Then she looked up at Deanna and met her eyes.

Deanna closed her hand, feeling a flush fill her cheeks. She wanted to apologise, but at the same time, she wanted to know Tasha’s reaction. Suddenly, she had the impression that she was lingering in a doorway leading into the most wonderful room she could imagine, stopped by a sign that said, “No entry,” willing the courage to step through, anyway.

Tasha blinked, the clear blue of her eyes a shining aquamarine amid the warm evening sunlight streaming through the windows. There was something behind that look, an unspoken word that Deanna couldn’t read.

The moment stretched on.

“I’m sorry,” Deanna said abruptly, feeling slightly dizzy. “I . . . I’m not myself.”

But Tasha didn’t say anything. She reached out and, tentatively touched Deanna’s hand in response. This time, the word waiting behind Tasha’s eyes was a question, one that came through loud and clear, even though Deanna couldn’t sense the emotion behind it. Deanna smiled slightly and nodded.

And then she turned over her palm and grasped Tasha’s hand, feeling suddenly like she had found a solid grip in the middle of a windstorm. The anxiety and fear and frustration were all still there, but they were whipping around her while she stood in a brief eye of calm, tethered suddenly to the most unexpected source.

She wanted to say something, but was terrified of disrupting the moment. Was she misinterpreting Tasha? Was this merely a moment between friends, a reassurance? Was she crossing a line? The calm of the moment suddenly became an unbearable tension, like standing in the terrifying stillness moments before a storm breaks. She let go of Tasha’s hand, but Tasha reached out and grabbed her hand, nodding, as though reassuring her.

And then Tasha spoke. “I . . . I didn’t figure you felt the same way.”

Deanna tried to speak, but nothing came out, so she nodded instead, feeling suddenly foolish.

“What a way to find out,” Tasha said, her voice suddenly small.

Deanna finally found her voice, though it felt rough and cracked. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. And it felt selfish to ask.”

Tasha let out a held breath. “I felt the same way. I knew you had some history with Commander Riker, so I figured you were . . . off limits.”

“No, Will and I are just friends.” It seemed redundant to say it, but Deanna couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“If you want to forget this ever happened, you can,” Tasha said, pulling her hand away.

“No,” Deanna said. “No, it’s alright. I need . . . I need you to be here. With me. If you want.”

Tasha looked suddenly guilty, frowning and pulling away. “Is this right?” She shook her head. “I feel so mixed up, and I don’t ever want to think that I’m just using this as a distraction.”

“It’s not. It’s like finding an anchor in a storm.”

“But,” Tasha said, but her thoughts died on her lips as she seemed suddenly unsure.

“I think . . . I think we’ll both be able to better deal with whatever’s ahead if we’re there for each other.”

“But just as friends, right?”

“Do you want to just be friends?”

Tasha looked suddenly pained. She hesitated, and then said, very quietly, “No.”

“Good,” Deanna said, “because neither do I.”

There was silence between then that grew heavy, but not oppressive, heavy like clouds filled with rain, waiting not for a storm, but for a springtime shower, life-giving and rejuvenating.

The silence broke suddenly when Faria returned with their tea.

“Oh,” he said, looking sheepish. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”


	9. Familiar/Unfamiliar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha travel to the nearest Betazoid estate while trying to deal with the moment from the previous day.

Betazed - 2364

The next morning, Deanna and Tasha set out for the next estate, loaded down with food that Ulwen Faria had given them, insisting that they would need more than Starfleet rations. The morning was cool, but not chilled, and morning birds, unaware of the planetwide emergency, sang enthusiastically amid the stately trees that lined the road leading away from Faria’s estate.

Keeping her eyes downcast, Deanna did her best to make sense of the events of the previous evening. That moment when she and Tasha had been alone now seemed surreal and alien, belonging to someone else’s life. Their hands had touched, and they’d understood each other. They knew of each other’s interest, and they’d both been open to going further.

And then Faria had returned, evidently grateful for the distraction that fussing over company offered from his own fear and uncertainty following the diminishing of his telepathy. The magic moment that had occurred between them had cracked like a bird’s egg, and things had become ordinary again. Faria had been kind and understanding, and had even answered some of Deanna’s questions about his writing. And the tea had been pleasant and calming.

But it felt as though she and Tasha had missed an opportunity they would never get again, illogical as that sounded to her own thoughts, now. Even when they were alone that night, taking stock of the equipment in their emergency packs, they had kept everything so businesslike. They tested each piece of equipment, discarding anything that was rendered useless by the strange energy field, save for their tricorders, which they hoped would come in useful in the future, just in case they found a way to break through the interference. Faria had gratefully taken the temporarily non-functioning equipment, storing it in his own equipment shed out back. Deanna had told him he could keep the emergency equipment. If the crisis could be resolved, the emergency equipment would offer extra security to the rustic lifestyle Faria favoured.

“If I may be so arrogant as to quote myself,” Faria had said as they set out the next day after sleeping in two separate guest rooms, “Remember ‘Look not to the shadows behind you / but to the sunlight before you.’” He’d smiled and then said, “Good luck, and thank you for your help.”

In that moment, Deanna had felt a thrill at moving forward once more, her thoughts on their destination. But now, the empty spaces in their packs filled with fruits and wrapped bread and fresh tea stored in chilled containers, they were once more alone, and able to talk about what had passed between them, and Deanna found herself unable to articulate anything, feeling like talking about the beautiful connection that had briefly existed between them would chase it away, like pestering a parent who had made an offhand reference to the possibility of candy to the point where they decided that one was too hyper for candy at present.

And so they walked in silence as the day warmed into a golden noon, morning birdsong changing to the frenzied hum of jewel-bright insects that glinted above the meadow grasses, engrossed in their obsessive search for a partner, oblivious to the larger green and gold birds who swooped through the flashing swarm in search of a tasty snack.

Deanna quickened her pace suddenly to catch up with Tasha, whose longer stride kept her just out of reach.

“Tasha,” she said, finding herself suddenly short of breath.

Tasha slowed incrementally, her shoulders suddenly stiff and her face set in a grim mask as though she was bracing herself for bad news.

Deanna took a breath to get into a new rhythm and spoke. “I want you to know that what happened yesterday wasn’t a mistake.”

Tasha stayed silent.

Deanna continued. “I know it’s probably inappropriate given the current circumstances, but I don’t want to forget that moment. And I don’t want you to feel guilty for admitting that you don’t necessarily just want to be friends.”

Tasha’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I,” she said, slowly, “appreciate that.” A pause, and then. “But I don’t . . . I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not very good at attachment,” Tasha said, her voice strained. “Growing up . . . where I did, I had only myself to rely on. I had family, but . . . they weren’t very reliable. As for romance, there was no time for it. One-off hook-ups, sure, but . . .” she trailed off, her cheeks reddening.

Deanna reached out and put a hand on Tasha’s shoulder. “I would never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I know you do,” Tasha said. “You’re so sweet. I just don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“The fact that you’re aware of that means you can avoid it, but if you want things between us to stay professional, I can respect your wishes.” It hurt her to say it, but at the same time, it was the only thing she really could say. Seeing Tasha so uncomfortable affected her even without her empathic awareness.

Tasha took a breath to speak, but then closed her mouth and shook her head incrementally. When she finally did speak, her voice was strained. “I’m sorry.”

The rest of the walk was tense and mostly silent, the only punctuation the oblivious hum of insects. Every now and then, for only a moment or so, Deanna would get a flash of Tasha’s disordered emotional state. But she never said anything. For once, she was grateful that her empathy was so unreliable. She could allow Tasha the privacy of whatever feelings she was experiencing. As for herself, she felt suddenly frustrated. She had been the one to ignite everything thus far unspoken into awkward terrible life when she’d reached out for Tasha’s hand the previous afternoon. She hadn’t been thinking. It had happened by reflex. She could have dismissed it as such and moved on. Why had she said nothing, allowed Tasha to believe that the gesture was intentional, and then lead Tasha into a declaration of her own unspoken attraction? She had pushed Tasha into this, and now their friendship was strained to the point where she wondered if they’d ever be comfortable around each other again.

She was grateful when the next estate loomed up in the middle distance, coming into view suddenly from behind a curving stand of trees. It was a larger house than Faria’s, wearing its grandiose trappings boldly. Many of the older families on Betazed kept grand homes like this, not as a bald display of wealth, but as a celebration of the universal bounty of the planet itself. Deanna’s mother had often told her that her father had hated the more traditional style as he couldn’t help but think back to his own world’s history where massive opulent homes in ancient times became symbols of an unequal upper class who hoarded wealth while so many people went without basic resources. Earth nowadays still had many such homes, but often they were museums or heritage sights. Human homes, regardless of size, often avoided such vulgar displays of wealth, unless it was done ironically.

As they neared, there was something familiar about the house. The area around it wasn’t anything Deanna recognised, but the house itself had a personality that struck at something within her memory. Had she visited here in the past? Amid the sprawling front lawn were peppered large planter boxes where fresh vegetables grew in profusion. Fruit trees and flowering shrubs lined the walkway to the front door. The sense of deja-vu grew stronger. The scent of the purple halleena blossoms combined with the sight of early-season blue wind plums was too specific to be a coincidence. Memories of her childhood came crashing back and she smiled. The distant sense of cataclysm that bounced around the back of her mind like approaching thunder dimmed somewhat as she felt suddenly more grounded. This was Betazed. This was the planet where she grew up. The memory invigorated her as they approached the front door and she rang the chime.

She and Tasha stood silently as someone inside began bustling about. And then a pink shape moved behind the frosted glass of the door, and Deanna felt a sudden sinking sensation as her mother, Lwaxana Troi pulled the door open, eyes wide and terrified.

The moment when mother and daughter recognised one another seemed to stretch on forever until Deanna spoke first.

“Mother?”

“Little one!” The word came out somewhat breathless as though spoken in fear rather than joy or relief.

“Mother, it’s me, Deanna.”

Lwaxana seemed to compose herself somewhat, putting a hand to her head to smooth back her natural dark hair which was tied back in a simple twist. “Deanna,” Lwaxana echoed, before waving the two of them inside.

Her mother was wearing a drapey fuschia robe, tied at the waist with an embroidered cloth belt. The sight was familiar enough from Deanna’s childhood. Her mother often wore this while she was getting ready. Once she had chosen her wig for the day, she’d match it to one of her signature elaborate gowns and then sweep out the door to do battle in the field of diplomacy and politics. But the expression on her face was not one she had seen very often. As overbearing as she could be, Lwaxana was rarely one to look uncertain or scared.

“Mother, are you alright?”

Lwaxana turned and, as though remembering belatedly, pulled Deanna into a hug, saying, “I thought I’d never see you again, Deanna.” She pulled away. “Were they able to send a distress call, then?” She fell into a soft armchair, hands in her lap. “I’ve been stuck here ever since that . . . that thing appeared in the sky. I can’t contact anyone in the government. Imagine that? Me!”

“Mother, communications are down across the planet.”

“That’s not all, Little One.”

Deanna nodded, ignoring the use of her childhood nickname. “I know, Mother. My empathy isn’t working very well.”

“I can’t get a sense of anything, except in brief moments. Deanna, please tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Mother. Our shuttle crashed, and our sensors were blocked as soon as we neared the planet.”

“You _crashed?_ Oh, my dear, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, mother. My . . .” she gestured to Tasha, feeling suddenly awkward. “My crewmate got us down safely.”

Lwaxana rose, her face lighting up at suddenly seeing Tasha. “Oh, you must be Deanna’s girlfriend, Tasha. She’s told me so much about you. Thank you for saving my baby girl’s life!” And she drew Tasha into a bewildering hug while Deanna’s eyes widened in panic at her mother’s words.

“Mother, Tasha isn’t my . . .”

“Oh dear,” Lwaxana said, turning to Deanna. “Did you break up? I’m so sorry!”

Deanna rose, spreading her hands. “Mother, we’re not together. We never have been.” She allowed her glance to move to Tasha, but her eyes were fixed firmly on Deanna’s mother.

Lwaxana looked confused. “Of course you are.”

“I promise you we aren't,” Tasha said, looking dazed.

“Since _when?_ ” Lwaxana said. “Honestly, Deanna, you never call me nearly enough. How am I supposed to keep up with all this?”

“Mother, let’s sit down,” Deanna said, and they all chose seats in the front room, well apart from one another. The furniture was familiar, all handmade pieces that Lwaxana had commissioned from artisans in exchange for pieces of Betazoid art from her personal collection. But the house they were in was as unfamiliar as anything. When had her mother moved?

“Deanna, please tell me what’s going on,” she repeated.

She took a deep breath. “It looks as though there’s another Betazed that’s trying to occupy the same space as this one. It’s only partially materialised, but it’s there. We couldn’t get any readings, but I’m guessing that the convergence between the two planets is creating some sort of energy field which is blocking both our abilities and communications.

“A second Betazed?” her mother said, bewildered. “From where?”

“I’m not sure. Another time, maybe, or another universe.”

“You’re talking about the multiverse theory?” Tasha asked, looking as though she was working very hard not to think about her mother’s “girlfriend” comment.

“It’s only a guess,” Deanna admitted. “But it makes sense. Perhaps moreso than the idea of a planet traveling through time.”

“How can you be sure?” Lwaxana asked.

Deanna took a breath. “Because I don’t think you’re actually my mother.”

“What!?”

Deanna looked around. “How long have you lived here, in this house?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lwaxana said. “You know that. This is the house you were born in.”

Deanna shook her head. “No, I recognize the furniture, but not the house. I grew up on the other side of the province, near Lake El'nar.”

Her mother blinked. “That was where your father wanted to live. But this house was larger and . . . Deanna what are you saying?”

She felt suddenly ill. “This isn’t my Betazed. If I’m right, the shadow planet we saw is the real Betazed, at least the Betazed from this universe or dimension or whatever, and this planet is slowly displacing it.”

“Which means . . .” Tasha began.

Deanna nodded. “Which means that, if we don’t figure out what’s happening, my Betazed will be gone forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a MEGA thank you and digital hug to everyone who's read so far. Your feedback is always appreciated, though never expected.  
> Second, I got Deanna's birthplace from Memory Alpha, but I can't remember which episode actually mentioned that. Was it from "Menage e Troi?" It's not mega pressing, I was just curious. <3 <3 <3


	10. Plan of Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha try to make sense of what's happening

_Titan - 2379_

_Deanna sank into the stiff seat, so fresh off the assembly line that no other sentient had sat in it before that instant. She looked around. The_ Titan _was smaller than the_ Enterprise _, but her office was larger. She wondered if that had anything to do with her new position as lead counselor and diplomatic officer. She wouldn’t be seeing as many patients directly, but would rather be overseeing a small team of counselors, taking over cases that merited her special expertise when needed. And on top of that, she could use this office as a meeting space during diplomatic events, though she thought it might be better to just use the conference room for that._

_But still, the empty room hummed with potential._

_“I’m not leaving this bare and empty,” she said to herself as she rose and moved to the shipping crate she’d had beamed here just in case she decided she needed it. She’d been unsure at first, clinging to her habits aboard both previous_ Enterprises _. But then she’d seen the room and realised that this was a fresh start. A new ship, a new position. It was time to move forward and put down roots. She didn’t plan on retiring any time soon, and now was as good a time as any to forge forward._

_She tapped the access code and the crate opened. She stared down into its contents like a Ferengi pirate staring into a chest of treasure. If the crate had been filled with gold-pressed latinum, it would have been worth less to her than these items._

_Something Tasha had said years ago came back to her and she paraphrased it out loud. “Such beautiful things.” This was her life, a series of treasures all pointing back to times of joy and happiness and exhilarating change, each one a treasured memory, like a telepathic archive. She could pick each item up and get a sense of that moment or that person. She went around the room, setting each item in a shelf or on her desk: her wedding photo, taken during their reception on Alaska; the inscribed book of Ulwen Faria’s poetry that Tasha had given her; the small crystalline hologram projector containing Tasha’s hologram, which she switched on; the photo of her father, as well as two others of her lost sister Kestra and her mother; an abstract painting that Data had given her for her birthday. Each item brought her new office to life in new and beautiful ways._

_And suddenly, like flipping a switch, she grew giddy with expectation for what her new life aboard this ship was going to be like. Past and present could both exist together as she moved forward into the future._

_***_

Betazed - 2364

It was the strangest feeling. Deanna looked at the face of her mother, a face she knew absolutely, as though it was a part of herself. But yet, this couldn’t be her mother. Everything that mattered was the same, save for minor details like this house and--

Her thoughts were interrupted by a man’s voice from the top of the central staircase.

“Well, I tried different frequencies, and even different carrier waves, but if anyone heard, they aren’t--”

“Dear!” her mother called back. “Look who’s here!”

Deanna stared in a mixture of dazed confusion and horror as her father, Ian, descended the staircase, dressed casually and looking more than a little harried. He was somewhat like the man she remembered from photos, though his hair was flecked with a bit of grey, and his eyes were framed with a few more lines. When he caught sight of Deanna, his expression lit up and he quickened his pace.

“She came to check on us, Ian,” Lwaxana beamed. “Even though her shuttle crashed, the poor thing.”

Ian stopped, his brow creasing at Lwaxana’s odd mixture of understatement and glee. “Are you alright?”

Deanna couldn’t reply right away. The surreal strangeness of the moment made her feel as though she were encased in a skin-tight membrane, allowing her to see, but not interact with anyone. She wanted to shrink away from the apparition of her father, but that impulse warred against an urge to draw him into an embrace and verify that he was, in fact, alive.

“Deanna?”

She blinked, startled into speaking. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little stunned.”

“She’s figured out what’s happening, Ian,” Lwaxana said. “I think you’ll want to hear this.”

Focusing on the problem at hand helped Deanna cope with the shock of seeing her father, and helped her to rationalise that this wasn’t _really_ her father. He was from an alternate universe or parallel reality in which he hadn’t died when she was young. Her father, her real father, was no longer a part of her life. This man was little more than an echo. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It was easier than allowing herself to open up to this person in any meaningful way, and thus shield her from the effects of long-buried trauma. It wasn’t healthy, but it was what she needed in that moment.

She explained what little she had seen aboard the _Hood_ as well as her suspicions about this planet being from a parallel universe, leaving out the horrifying truth that she had grown up without a father. Without him. Throughout her meager explanation, she kept meeting Tasha’s eyes, desperately wishing she could explain to her exactly what she was feeling. Tasha was from her own universe, and even though she had made it very clear what kind of boundaries she wanted between them, she was at least a familiar element amid formerly familiar territory.

Something else came back to her suddenly, her mother’s insistence that she and Tasha were a couple when they had arrived. That should have been her first clue as to what this planet really was, its implications shocking and wonderful. In another lifetime, she and Tasha were together. Perhaps Tasha’s life had followed a different path, putting her in a position where she had been more comfortable with letting her defences down. It hurt Deanna to know that fate had shuffled things just so the two of them couldn’t be together in her own universe, but it also reassured her to know that she wasn’t a complete moron for believing it could happen in any universe.

“What can we do?” her father asked her, as though she could make sense of this whole mixed-up situation and intuit a solution so easily. Her knowledge of astrophysics was limited to the basics she had studied in the Academy. Her focus on sociology, psychology, political science, and art history hadn’t given nearly enough to work with in terms of coming up with a solution.

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Deanna admitted. “But I think we’ll be better placed to find answers at the capital. We have it on good authority that you have ground transport.”

“Who said that?” Lwaxana blurted out.

Tasha saved Deanna and spoke up, “We stayed the night at the house of one of your neighbours, Elwen Faria.”

“Faria?” Lwaxana said with a roll of her eyes. “That old hack wouldn’t know a shovel from a starship. And what’s he doing spying on my grounds? Is he trying to learn the secret of my glow orchids, because I’ll never tell. He can snoop right up to the house and scan them with a tricorder and he’ll never figure it out.” She crossed her arms in triumph.

Deanna shook her head. “I don’t know what he meant, Mother. But remember, we didn’t know this was your house. We came here looking for a means of reaching Medara.”

After a brief silence, Ian spoke up. “I may have what you’re looking for, but it won’t be something we could all use.”

“What are you talking about, Ian?” Lwaxana said. “You mean you’ve had the ability to get me away from here for two days and you haven’t said anything?”

He shook his head. “You want to climb on the back of the Harley?”

“Oh _that_ dreadful thing?!” Lwaxana all but shuddered. “I thought you meant a real vehicle.”

“What’s a Harley?” Deanna asked, uncertainly turning to Tasha in case it was a human thing she was misunderstanding. Tasha shrugged and shook her head.

“Historical research,” her father said with an almost guilty smile. “Also a bit of a midlife crisis.” He rose and led Deanna and Tasha outside to a low building to the back of the house while Lwaxana stayed inside to “do something with her hair” as she said.

Deanna felt suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that, had her own father survived, she would know enough about him to be able to anticipate what was inside the shed. She knew she had no reason to fear this man, but he was still a stranger to her. And yet he spoke to her as though he knew her as well as any father knew his daughter. He had seen her grow up, had probably listened to every panicked subspace communication while she had been going through the Academy, and had congratulated her upon her first assignment. And Deanna couldn’t remember any of it.

And then, amid everything, she felt a hand slip into hers, clasp it tight, and then let go. She looked up, bewildered, to see Tasha giving her a knowing look. The touch was that of a friend, nothing more, but it helped ground Deanna. She followed her father, who was talking casually about his attempts to re-establish communications following the blackout, as he opened the small building to reveal exactly what a “Harley” was.

Tasha spoke first. “Is that a motorcycle?”

“It is, yeah,” Ian said, nodding. “Not even remotely practical, but it was something of an icon in Earth history. I meant to show it to you the last time you two visited, but it wasn’t quite finished. I modified the original model to replace the internal combustion engine with an electronic generator. It’s more powerful and also less finicky, which I guess takes away some of the original charm, but Lwaxana would have chopped the damn thing up with an axe if I’d left it as is,”

Deanna was still processing the offhand way her father spoke about talking to Tasha, or at least another version of her, in the past, when Tasha stepped forward to run her hands over the vehicle’s black exterior. “We didn’t have anything this nice on Turkana IV, but we used simpler variations to get around, when we could find fuel.”

“You were on Turkana IV?” Ian asked, startled.

Tasha nodded. “Born and raised.”

“You never mentioned that,” Ian said suddenly to Deanna. Then he turned back to Tasha. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My ship, the _Endeavour_ , tried to deliver relief supplies there, once. It was . . . harrowing.” He made as though to move toward Tasha, and then suddenly stopped. “I . . . I don’t guess things are the same between you two in . . . your universe.” His whole demeanor changed as he remembered that Deanna was not, in fact, _his_ Deanna.

An awkward silence began to gather between them before Deanna spoke. “Tasha and I are friends, and we serve together aboard the _Enterprise._ ”

“Oh,” her father said, his shoulders sagging in disappointment. “Well, that’s fine. I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry.”

Deanna’s empathic senses flickered back briefly enough to get a sense of loss from Ian, but then the sensation faded away, leaving her blind to what he was feeling. _What was that?_ She thought, as Ian turned back to the neutral subject of the motorcycle.

“Um, if you know how to ride it, you’re free to take it. It’s about two hours to Medara, if you can handle it.”

Tasha spoke up, “Deanna, if you want to go with your father, I can stay here to look after your mother.”

Deanna blinked, not having considered that at all. “Uh, if . . .”

Ian interrupted her. “No, you two go ahead. I have some more things to do here. Really, we’ll be fine. I was on leave, anyway, so I’m trapped here until this all gets sorted out.”

Deanna sensed, though not empathically, that he was making excuses, and, for the first time since meeting him, felt a flush of parental embarrassment. _Stop it, Dad_ , she wanted to say, but soon enough the feeling passed, and she turned to Tasha, pushing all of her feeling down as far as possible. This mission was compromising her ability to think clearly. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand, and nothing else. “Are you able to pilot this?”

Tasha hesitated, and then said, “I think so.”

“Then I’m coming with you.” She pointedly made her tone sharper, her expression harder.

She thought she saw a ghost of a smile on her father’s face, but shook her head. _That’s not how things are going to go, with me. I’m not your daughter._ But no matter how much she fought it, she couldn’t hide the fact that she was glad Tasha had decided to go with her. She needed that anchor to her own universe. It had nothing to do with her feelings for her. Without Tasha there as a reminder of her own life, her own career, her own universe, she felt as though she would fly off the surface of this planet and go drifting into whatever anomaly was slowly devouring her own world. She needed to go home before she lost herself completely.

Her mother screamed a thousand “Be careful’s” after them as Tasha and Deanna rode off down the road, Deanna sitting behind Tasha, her arms wrapped around her out of necessity and nothing else, losing herself to the rush of the wind whipping her hair behind her. They had no plan to fix anything, but at least they knew more about what was happening than anyone here.

And maybe that was all they needed to fix the shattered universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan it this way, but Father's Day is today, so I guess, that's as good a time as any to say Happy Father's Day to all those Trek Dads out there!


	11. City of Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha reach Medara

Betazed - 2364

Following a quick jaunt back to Faria’s where Tasha explained that they wouldn’t be able to bring him to Medara, but would send word to him as soon as they knew anything, Deanna and Tasha were back on the road, racing onward, the setting sun urging them onward. Deanna didn’t want to wait another night feeling uncertain and displaced. She wanted to _do_ something.

This mission had tested her in more ways than one, so far, and at this point, all she wanted was to put the universe back in its own place. She wanted to forget that moment where she’d let her feelings for Tasha tumble out into plain sight. She cringed at the memory, horrified at the unprofessional lapse. She needed to focus on her own life, her own career. She didn’t have time to open up to anyone. It was more trouble than it was worth, distracting her and clouding her judgement.

When she had accepted her posting aboard the _Enterprise_ , she made a point to be a psychologist first and a Starfleet officer second, but she needed the distance that uniform gave her, right now, the ability to back away from a situation and analyse it dispassionately. She had been able to establish a professional distance with Will. Their prior relationship had been openly acknowledged, and they both had made it very clear that they were colleagues first, friends second. She could achieve the same distance with Tasha, even if she had to forego the “friend” part. It hurt a part of her deep down to give in to such callous attitudes, but she hated how free-floating she felt. Tasha’s presence anchored her, but Deanna needed to stop being distracted by her. They were a team, and they had the information that might help to fix this problem, but they couldn’t be a proper team if Tasha felt awkward around her.

Deanna bowed her head against the rush of wind as the winding road turned them into the oncoming wind. The road widened, which was a good sign. Her father had explained the directions to Medara, and though they were still a half hour away from the city, Deanna appreciated the forward momentum this gave her. They weren’t waiting and asking questions, they were _acting_.

But then she noticed the motorcycle slowing and inching to the side of the road. She looked up, blinking. “Why are we stopping?”

Tasha remained silent and stiff as she pulled the bike to a stop, allowing a few breaths to pass before she spoke. “Deanna, I don’t want there to be anything uncomfortable between us.”

Deanna blinked. She’d stopped to say that? “I agree. We have a mission to focus on.”

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean, what if we stopped fighting this?”

“What do you mean?”

“At your house, your parents both seemed to think that we were . . . involved.”

“It’s another reality or universe,” Deanna said, keeping all her emotional walls up. “A different timeline, perhaps. It’s not our reality.”

“I know,” Tasha said, reaching up to run a hand through her short blond hair and shake away some of the road dust. “But what if it was?”

Deanna swallowed. “We talked about this. I thought we agreed . . .”

“I know. At the time, I was scared and overwhelmed. To be honest, I’m still scared and overwhelmed. All this talk of alternate dimensions has me feeling like reality isn’t what I thought. But I feel guilty for pushing you away.”

“There’s nothing to feel guilty about,” Deanna said. “We have a--”

“--a mission, I know,” Tasha finished for her. “But this place makes me feel . . . unsettled, and I need something familiar.”

Deanna was surprised that Tasha felt the same way she did, even though this wasn’t her home planet. Tasha had no memories of Betazed to compare to what she was seeing. “I thought I was the only one bothered by this whole strange planet,” she said.

“To be honest, seeing you so uncomfortable bothers me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Human empathy is still very strong,” Deanna said, “even without the telepathic component.”

Tasha relaxed her shoulders with visible effort. “I think this goes beyond just empathy.”

Deanna tensed. “I think I know what you’re about to say, and I think it should remain unsaid.”

“Why?” Tasha asked, looking a little hurt. “Yesterday, you seemed so sure.”

“Do you think we can keep this from affecting our judgment?” Deanna asked, trying not to sound too harsh. “In a situation like this, we need to remain focused.”

“I am focused.”

“No,” Deanna said, pulling away. “We should be driving to Madera, and yet we’ve stopped, talking about our own problems. This is already affecting the mission.”

Tasha turned to face forward and, without another word, kicked the bike back into motion. Deanna couldn’t get any read on what she was feeling, but she intuited that it was better that she couldn’t. She’d hurt Tasha with her words.

Why was it so _hard_ to talk to her? It had felt so right in that moment at Faria’s, and now, they both kept trying to find ways to make things work while the other recoiled. And on top of that, she had just insulted Tasha, implying that her feelings were negatively affecting her job. Deanna knew that was true about herself, but she couldn’t read Tasha. Without her empathic abilities, Deanna felt herself becoming defensive, pushing everyone away in response to her own feelings of loss and confusion. While at her mother’s house, she hadn’t spoken to Lwaxana one-on-one. She wasn’t _her_ mother, but she _was_ Lwaxana Troi, and Deanna had chosen to recoil from her just as she had from the alternate version of her father, a familiar face she couldn’t relate to.

Tasha was the one person here who could offer Deanna completion in any way, and she was willing to pursue it, but all Deanna could focus on was keeping her barriers up. What was she really afraid of? Was she afraid that Tasha would end up like Will, choosing a career over love? Was she afraid this would end up just being a meaningless fling? Tasha didn’t seem the type of person to do that, but then again, Will hadn’t either. They had found a connection so deep that she still thought of him as her Imzadi. She could read his thoughts. Would Tasha end up just another failed romance, another meeting with Captain Picard in which she would have to assure him that she no longer had feelings for his security chief?

She felt suddenly insecure, like she had in the year after her father died. What was wrong with her? She was a capable, intelligent person. She was proud of where she’d gotten. Why was she now flustered and uncertain like that young woman who’d fallen into a tempestuous romance with a young Starfleet lieutenant, wearing the same color Tasha did now? It didn’t take a psychology degree to make sense of her current mental state.

She turned to look at the trees whipping past them. Dark birds, sunlarks they were confusingly called because of their appearance as sunset approached, trilled from tree to tree and swooped between branches in groups like decorations on a party garland. The wind made it hard for her to hear their song, but she could easily remember the three-part counterpoint a large flock of sunlarks sang out for all to see.

Life would be so much easier if she were a bird, she thought. They didn’t have to consider a career/life balance in anything they did. They sang, flew, and enjoyed everything with their whole being.

 _You’re being a fool, Deanna_ , she chided herself, dismissing the fancy as that of someone looking to avoid responsibility. And then she dismissed that thought in turn, realising that she was caught in the inevitable pointless cycle of aimless logic that comes from psychoanalysing oneself. Only then was she able to get her thoughts back on the task at hand.

By the time they arrived at the southernmost hill overlooking Medara, the sun was low enough that the city’s lights were coming on, casting a halo around the city that obscured the sight of the ghostly planet looming in the sky to something distant enough to be ignored.

“Where to now?” Tasha asked over her shoulder.

“There’s a Starfleet base to the west,” she said. “They would be the best equipped to do something.”

“Alright, west it is.”

Once they descended the hill and made it into the city proper, Deanna could see that this was not the peaceful haven of artists and researchers she knew. Even without her empathic abilities, she could see that the city was unsettled. Silent abandoned vehicles littered the wide streets, some of them crushed against buildings or other obstacles. What people they did see looked terrified, wandering aimlessly, frantically searching for lost family members or even just trying to make their way home. Most everyone else looked to be staying home, peering out from windows, wide-eyed and waiting for a sign that everything was going to be okay.

They turned a corner and Tasha stopped completely as they took in the sight of a domed building impaled with the wreckage of a smashed shuttlecraft. Deanna’s breath caught in her throat, cutting off her words before she could voice them.

“I’m so sorry, Deanna,” Tasha whispered.

Deanna tried to speak again, but all she could do was stare at the senseless destruction and blink away tears. There was no reason for this. It was a freak spatial anomaly. Nothing anyone could have prepared for. She cleared her throat and was finally able to croak out, “Just keep driving.”

Tasha nodded and kicked the bike back into motion, while Deanna tried to keep her eyes off the further signs of destruction they passed. It was like traversing an apocalyptic landscape. It may not be _her_ Betazed, but it was Betazed, filled with good, peaceful people who would have been completely unprepared for anything like this. The sense of helplessness reasserted itself. No matter what they did, they couldn’t undo any of this, heal the trauma of seeing one’s homeworld fall apart. The relative peace of her mother’s estate had left her completely unprepared for this, even though she knew this had to have happened. If her shuttle had crashed, other ships would have suffered the same fate.

She let loose an audible sob and, without thinking, hugged herself to Tasha tighter. To her startlement, Tasha responded by grabbing Deanna’s right hand in her left, squeezing it just enough to offer what reassurance she could. There was no way Deanna could talk her way out of this, to bring up the mission or protocol, to protest that she wasn’t ready. So she let Tasha hold her hand. It didn’t heal the ripping grief that was tearing her apart at seeing so many people hurt, but it made her suddenly feel stronger, safer, able to endure this incrementally more than before. And in that moment, she realised that everything she was terrified of meant nothing.

The truth of the matter was that, in this moment, she needed Tasha, and, judging by the gentle grip of Tasha’s hand on hers, Tasha needed her as well. She was such a strong and fearless woman, standing up to injustice with no thought to her own safety, but it was obvious that, in this situation, she was feeling overwhelmed at the magnitude of what needed to be done. Deanna didn’t need empathy to sense that. She could feel it in the line of tension that ran across Tasha’s shoulders. _Perhaps_ , she thought, _this is bringing back memories of the chaos of Turkana IV_. She didn’t know much about what Tasha had experienced, but she knew there was far more trauma there than she even spoke about.

By the time they reached the Starfleet base entrance, Deanna was feeling stable enough to get off the bike without her knees giving out. The two security officers approached them.

“We’re not allowing anyone in right now,” one of them, a burly Andorian said.

Deanna turned to Tasha who nodded back to her. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Deanna Troi and this is Lieutenant Tasha Yar. We’re from the _Hood_ , which is in a high orbit right now, awaiting instructions. Our shuttle crashed on our way to answer your distress call.”

The Andorian’s antennae twitched in question. “Things are pretty chaotic right now. It might be safer if you returned to your ship and awaited instructions. Communications are down.”

Tasha shook her head. “We know that. We have information your superiors need. We might be able to help deal with this situation.”

The other officer, a dark-skinned woman, turned to her colleague. “We need help, Kinn. Sending them away would accomplish nothing.”

The Andorian nodded. “Come in. You should report to Admiral Ra-Jakreii right away.”

Tasha parked the bike just inside the gates and they made their way to the base HQ, walking silently, but a little closer than they had before. Deanna wanted nothing more than to take Tasha’s hand, and talk about what was bothering her, free of all the artificial shields and excuses she had been piling up around her since they crashed. Had Tasha’s hand clasp been purely a reflex brought on by traumatic surroundings? She knew it wasn’t. It was foolish to think otherwise. If nothing else, it was a silent forgiveness for what Deanna had said to her earlier, a reminder that she would still be there for her, as a friend, if needed, or something more.

All she needed to do was ask, and she could have her answer. But now was quite possibly the worst time to bring anything up. So instead, she threw caution to the wind, moved closer to Tasha, and took her hand, meeting her eyes long enough to silently communicate that she was willing to talk about this at a later time.

And they approached the large base HQ building, hand-in hand. Deanna shoved her anxieties aside, took a steadying breath, and kept telling herself that they were going to save her world. They had to. They, the two of them. She wasn’t facing this alone. She could do this.

Maybe.


	12. Laws of Physics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha meet with the Starfleet commander based on Betazed in order to come up with a solution.

_Titan - 2379_

_Will Riker looked utterly exhausted when he stepped into his and Deanna’s new quarters aboard the_ Titan _. Deanna looked up from the book she was reading as he entered._

_“Rough day?”_

_“Ugh,” he said, sinking into his chair. “I think I could sleep for days.”_

_“Well, you may not want to do that. People might get suspicious.”_

_“I suppose,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “How’s your day been?”_

_“Busy, but what else is new? I got my new office set up, which is nice.”_

_“I stopped by there, hoping to catch you. It looks . . . different from your old office.”_

_She set her book down. “I wanted a fresh start. Try something different.”_

_“It looks nice,” he said, in a noncommittal tone._

_“What is it?” Deanna asked, not needing her empathic senses to read her husband._

_“I just haven’t had much time to process everything that’s happened.”_

_“Tell me about it,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been undergoing intensive therapy lately.”_

_“You’re doing better than me,” Will said, rising and going over to the replicator. “You want anything?”_

_She shook her head, and Will ordered a glass of chamomile tea, returning to his chair with a sigh._

_“Do you want to talk about it?” Deanna asked._

_“To be honest, I don’t know where to start.”_

_“It sounds like you should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be busy for both of us.”_

_“Maybe you’re right.” He started to rise, and then stopped. “I miss them, Deanna.”_

_She met his eyes. “Who?” The question didn’t really need to be asked, but if he needed to talk, she was fine with giving him the chance to voice whatever was bothering him.”_

_“Everyone we’ve lost these past few years at the hands of the Dominion and the Borg. It’s all so senseless.”_

_“It can be, but none of it was your fault.”_

_“I know that, but now it will be.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t think I’ll be as strong as Captain Picard. He kept going even when faced with unspeakable tragedy.”_

_Deanna was silent for a moment before continuing. “He was very good at being strong when others could see him. But I know that every single loss tore him up. Nothing was dismissed. Just because you will need to present a stoic front for your crew doesn’t mean you will become some kind of heartless statue.”_

_“How did you cope when you lost Tasha?”_

_The question caught her completely off guard. They had rarely discussed Tasha, aside from offhand remarks here and there. She knew he wasn’t bothered by her previous relationship, but she had made a point to leave the past in the past. There had to be a reason why he was bringing this up now._

_“I had to be open with myself about my grief,” she said. “Hiding it away and burying it in work and distraction doesn’t accomplish anything. I had to allow myself to hurt.”_

_He nodded, and then suddenly she saw his eyes fill with tears. She rose and moved to him._

_“I don’t want to lose you, Deanna,” he said, his voice breaking._

_She sat down next to him and held him. “You’re upset about losing Data, aren’t you?”_

_“Of course I’m upset,” he said, audibly fighting to regain control of himself, even though he must know that Deanna didn’t care. “He was supposed to outlive us all. And if he can die pointlessly . . .” he trailed off and met her eyes, his expression hurt and pleading._

_“Do you want to know something?” Deanna said. “In the seconds before Shinzon’s ship exploded, I sensed something. Something from Data. In that moment, he transcended his programming and achieved his life’s ambition. Even without his emotion chip. I sensed feeling from him, real emotions. He was satisfied with his choice. And in doing so, he became a mortal human man no different from yourself. It wasn’t senseless, not like . . .” she trailed off, leaving Tasha’s name unspoken._

_He hugged her back. “I hadn’t realised that. But that still doesn’t mean I’m going to be happy about losing Data.”_

_“Of course not, but knowing that his death had meaning can allow you, in time, to heal from the loss.”_

_“I wish you’d had that chance.”_

_She met his eyes again. “I did. It took a little longer, but Tasha knew the risks of her job. And Armus paid for what he did.”_

_She remembered the haunted expression on Picard’s face when he told her how he abandoned the being who killed Tasha, leaving him alone with his rage and insecurity, trapped for eternity. He’d asked if that made him a monster. She said a monster wouldn’t feel guilt for what he did, and that Armus, by his very nature, couldn’t be redeemed. It had been hard, but he’d made the right choice. And that had allowed Deanna to slowly move on, even if she also felt disgusted at the sense of satisfaction she felt at Armus’ tragic fate._

_“Any time we have been put into a position where we are able to make a choice over again, it’s never ended well,” she said, thinking of the time they’d discovered a bizarre duplicate of Will, one who was still in love with Deanna. She’d toyed with the idea of rekindling their old romance, only for Tom Riker to choose career over her, once more. And his choices had led him to the Maquis and a Cardassian prison following a failed hijacking of a starship from Deep Space Nine. “All we can do,” she continued, “is move on and be open to change.”_

_He nodded, and took a cleansing breath. “Perhaps I’ve grown too old to change.”_

_Deanna sat up and shot him an amused look. “Well I am most certainly_ not _old, so there’s no way that_ you _can be old.” he laughed and tossed a cushion at her as she stood up. “You should get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”_

_“Only if you join me.”_

_She smiled. “That can be arranged.”_

_***_

Betazed - 2364

Admiral Ra-jakreii, an Efrosian who kept his flowing white hair tied back in a simple ponytail, looked stunned to see Deanna and Tasha walk into a room that looked to have been converted into a sort of situation room, though few of the displays were showing anything helpful.

“How were you able to make it down?” he asked, his voice calm, though his expression looked tense and harried.

Tasha approached him. “Well it wasn’t something I’d like to try again. It was pure luck that our shuttle crashed the way it did. If we’d landed in a body of water or on a rocky mountainside, we wouldn’t be here, now.”

“What ship are you from?”

“We were on the _Hood_ , and she should still be in orbit,” Tasha explained. “We just need to find a way to get in contact with her.

“The _Hood_?” Ra-jakreii said, in confusion. “But she’s patrolling the Beta Quadrant right now.”

“Actually, that leads me to the reason why we’re here,” Tasha said. “We may have some insight into what’s happening.” She turned to Deanna, who stepped forward.

“We have reason to believe that this planet is from a parallel universe or timeline,” Deanna said.

Ra-jakreii nodded. “That confirms some of our suspicions. Before we lost our sensors, we detected a spatial anomaly that was giving off a great deal of strange radiation. We didn’t get much, but we have a small database of saved readings, even though we can’t use them.”

“The planet that you can see in orbit is most likely the Betazed from this universe,” Deanna went on. “It looks to be phasing out of this space-time continuum.”

“How were you able to gather all this information?” Ra-jakreii said, settling back into his seat.

“Admittedly, a lot of it is conjecture,” Deanna said. “But we have seen first-hand evidence that this is not the Betazed I know. There are subtle details that are different.”

“Such as?”

Deanna looked at Tasha, who moved to intercept the question. “Well, for example, you said the _Hood_ was in the Beta Quadrant. Our _Hood_ is a supply ship making rounds in the Alpha Quadrant.”

At Ra-jakreii’s questioning look, Deanna spoke up. “Also, my father is alive in your universe and not in mine.”

That took him and the two other officers in the room aback. “Well I’ll say that’s proof enough.”

“If this isn’t the planet from our universe, it’s safe to assume that the second Betazed is ours,” Tasha supplied.

“Which means,” Ra-jakreii said, “that we are displacing the second planet.” He seemed to slump. “What can we do to stop it? We have no access to starships or sensors.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Tasha said. “There’s got to be a way we can send a message to the _Hood_. Something we haven’t tried before.”

“Won’t their sensors be affected as well?”

“If they remain far enough from the planet,” Deanna said, “then they should be able to use their equipment to get a reading. It was only when they approached the planet that systems began failing.”

Ra-jakreii seemed to digest that for a few moments before speaking again. “If we could get you two back to your ship, then perhaps you’d be in a better position to help us.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Tasha said. “Our guidance sensors on the shuttle failed as soon as we got close to the atmosphere.”

“There may be another option,” he said, “though I don’t know how feasible it would be either.”

“What is it?” Deanna asked.

He seemed to smirk. “We could shoot you into orbit.”

Deanna blinked. Tasha’s mouth hung open.

“You’ll have to forgive me for being dramatic, but I couldn’t resist seeing your reaction,” he said before clarifying. “What I mean is, in the past on many worlds, early spaceflight was achieved ballistically, via chemical engines launching capsules into orbit or even beyond orbit. Such technology is incredibly dangerous, of course, but it would be low-tech enough to avoid being affected by this anomaly.”

“The same way the motorbike worked,” Tasha said.

“Oh is that how you got here?” Ra-jakreii asked. “Yes, there’s been a trend lately wherein people have been replicating classic machine designs to see how they worked. It’s something of a fad, a mania for antiques, but it may actually be something that can help us.”

“What do you mean?” Deanna asked.

“Well,” he said, rising, “a team of engineering students from Medara University have just recently recreated an orbital rocket from Betazed’s early space exploration days.”

“You’re joking,” Tasha said.

“I do, yes,” Ra-jakreii said with a twinkle in his eyes, “but right now I’m deadly serious. It was to be a museum piece, something people could interact with. But they assured the museum that it was spaceworthy. The only downside is that it doesn’t have any of the special liquid oxygen/hydrocarbon fuel, as there haven’t been any facilities capable of making that for centuries. They outfitted it with thrusters, assuming it could be beamed into space for testing.”

“That wouldn’t give nearly enough power to achieve escape velocity,” Tasha said.

“That’s true,” Ra-jakreii said, “But I think a team of engineers could retrofit the thrusters for greater power and stability.”

“How long would that take?” Deanna asked.

“They tell me two days.”

“They’re already started?” Tasha asked.

“They started this morning, actually.” At their confused stares, he said, “It was our only hope of getting a message off planet. We weren’t about to sit and wait for a Federation starship to crash a shuttle, now were we?”

“I’d like to volunteer to pilot the craft,” Tasha said, standing straighter. “If you have any information to pass along, I can bring it with me to my ship.”

Deanna wanted to protest, but knew that Tasha was a resourceful pilot. With very little prep, she could pilot anything. It made sense for her to volunteer, but at the same time, Deanna wanted her to stay here with her. They had finally achieved some kind of understanding, but they’d had no time to actually talk about it with one another, no time to feel each other out, now that they had both agreed to put down their defenses. And now Tasha would be hurling herself literally into parts unknown, risking her life for the off chance that the _Hood_ might be able to pick her up.

She wasn’t about to let her risk her life alone like that.

“I’ll go with her,” Deanna said, clasping her hands behind her back to hide the shaking.

Ra-jakreii gave a sagely nod which passed for a smile among his stately species. “I was just about to say that the pod has room for two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was never mentioned onscreen, but we did meet two other Efrosians. One was the ops officer on the Saratoga in Star Trek IV, and the other was the Federation president from Star Trek VI. There's also another one from the Titan series of novels who takes over as the interim chief engineer. We don't know much about them, and I really hope to see another Efrosian (or even their home planet) in a future series.


	13. Nocturne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that their feelings are out in the open, Deanna and Tasha discover that they actually need to...you know...address them...

Betazed - 2364

“I wish I could offer to take you out to dinner,” Tasha said, joining Deanna on a bench in the base barracks as they awaited their temporary quarters, “but this’ll have to do.” She handed Deanna a small packet.

She accepted the offered military ration with an exhausted smile. “This isn’t really how I would have planned for this to happen.”

Tasha moved a little closer, but kept a space between them. Deanna couldn’t help feeling more than a little nervous herself. Despite their conversations, it felt like they hadn’t had much of a chance to really connect in any way thus far. Now that they literally had nothing to do for the rest of the day, the chance to finally relax together was impossible to ignore. And with that opportunity came a flutter of nervous awkwardness that Deanna hadn’t expected.

Tasha hugged her arms to herself as though she was suddenly cold. “You know, I’ve been trying to talk myself out of asking you out ever since Farpoint. I guess that didn’t work out very well.” Her smile was soft and genuine, tinged with whispers of nervous fear.

Deanna nodded. “For some reason, I had myself convinced that you weren’t interested . . . in women.” She’d almost said, “in me,” but veered far away from that as it made her feel suddenly hopelessly pathetic. _Why was talking to Tasha so terrifying?_ She asked herself.

Tasha blinked. “I actually thought the same about you.”

“Really?” Deanna had nothing more intelligent to say, and felt suddenly like a floundering eel trying to appear impressive in front of a golden-feathered bird of regal stature.

“I guess the best way to describe myself is that I’ve been with men more often, but only because I’m so awful at talking to women.”

“We’re talking, now.”

“That’s true,” Tasha said with a chuckle. “But I’m just waiting for one of my awkward character flaws to rear their head and scare you off for good.”

Deanna laughed at that. “You’ve met my mother. Which means you’ve come face to face with every one of my own character flaws.”

“I liked your mother,” Tasha said, opening up her own ration packet. “She seems really genuine and very caring.”

“Oh she is,” Deanna admitted, “until there’s something she wants that she can’t get. You’ve never seen her enraged into action by something she can’t control.”

“I guess that’s why she’s a politician,” Tasha said, nudging Deanna with an elbow.

Deanna nodded, smiling. “Unfortunately, when that happens to me, it terrifies people and they start looking at me suspiciously, waiting for my calm exterior to explode into a thousand flaming fragments.”

“Oh yeah?” Tasha said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you not notice what happened in Q’s fantasy courtroom?”

Deanna recalled her horror at seeing Tasha suddenly flash frozen by the omnipotent being who had captured them. “Anyone would be frustrated at being toyed with like that,” Deanna said. “I’ll have you know that Captain Picard tore Q to verbal shreds after that. In fact, that was part of the reason why Q unfroze you.”

“What was the other reason?”

“Data’s perfect memory.”

Tasha nodded, a sudden cringe tightening her shoulders.

Deanna, noticing the movement, frowned. “Do you have a problem with Data?”

Tasha’s eyes widened suddenly. “No! Of course not. It’s just . . . you know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“Alright,” Deanna said, not understanding why Tasha suddenly seemed so uncomfortable. “Well, we don’t have to talk about him. Um, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Tasha smiled,  evidently not picking up on Deanna’s sudden wave of self-directed disgust at such a cliche pick-up line. “I play Parrises Squares.”

“Oh really?”

“I’m not very good at it.”

“I doubt that.”

“No, really. It’s fun, but it’s not my forte.”

“Well what is?”

Tasha sighed. “You don’t want to hear me talk about myself.”

“I do, actually,” Deanna said, her expression warming.

“To be honest, I sort of lose myself in work. I love my job, but I have a bad habit of giving so much of myself over to it that there isn’t much room for anything else. After my duty shifts, I go back to my quarters and sleep, most days. It’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” Deanna said, resisting the urge to fall into Therapist Mode again.

“How about you?” Tasha asked.

“I guess you could call me an armchair academic,” Deanna said, feeling suddenly like the most boring person in the universe compared to Tasha’s athletic pursuits. “I love staying up on the latest scholarship in a few fields.”

“Such as?”

“Sociology, philosophy, linguistics. It’s a great way to unwind at the end of the day.” Realizing that this made her sound like some kind of crazed workaholic, she added, “I also enjoy Betazoid poetry.”

“Poetry? Really?”

Deanna gave a nervous laugh. “Is that too dull?”

“No!” Tasha said, looking suddenly terrified. “God no. I just had no idea . . .” She shook her head, took a few silent bites of her ration bar, and then said. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

Deanna blinked, and then said, “I’d love to.”

***

The night air was fragrant and cool, which surprised Deanna. The grounds of the Starfleet base had been designed to match the general aesthetic of Medara, a city filled with lush gardens and enough space between buildings so one never felt crowded. She wished she could open up her thoughts to the emotional resonance of the familiar city, but knew that even a momentary flash of the current landscape would be disorienting. That was all her empathic senses could manage, at present, but it would still be too much to handle. So many people here were scared and frightened and angry. The planet looming above them offered nothing in the way of answers, and the loss of the planet’s telepathic currents--a daily fact of life on Betazed that allowed everyone to get a sense of any kind of planetary emergency immediately as the thoughts passed around the planet--would leave everyone feeling empty and hurt. If Deanna hadn’t had Tasha, she mused to herself, she would no doubt react to the unexplained loss of her empathy with fear and anger.

But then her jumble of thoughts melted away when she belatedly realised what was happening in that moment. She was enjoying a calm moment with someone she liked. And in two days, they would both take the first steps to save her planet. She moved closer to Tasha and took her hand.

Tasha seemed to start at that.

“I’m sorry,” Deanna said, pulling away.

“No, it’s not that,” Tasha said. “I was just lost in thought.”

“That makes two of us.”

Deanna smiled, moved back, and re-took Tasha’s hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how grateful I am that you’re here with me.”

“I . . .thanks.”

There was still a ghost of awkwardness between them. They knew of each other’s feelings, but actually moving beyond workplace distance took more effort than Deanna had expected. “Reassigned to an unfamiliar ship and then dropped onto a planet in a type of turmoil I haven’t experienced before? In any other situation, I would be a nervous wreck.”

“Would it completely shatter your concept of me if I admitted that I’m scared, too?”

Deanna smiled. “Not at all. It actually makes you less terrifying.”

“You think I’m terrifying?” Tasha asked, in obvious dismay.

“Only in that I was convinced that you were out of my league.”

“What?”

Deanna shook her head. “It’s silly, I know.”

“But you’re so . . .brilliant.”

“Oh please,” Deanna said, shaking her head, her cheeks reddening.

Tasha looked forward and let out a breath. “You know, it’s eerie how similar our thoughts are on the matter. If all this hadn’t happened, do you think we would have gotten up the courage to say anything?”

“It’s hard to say,” Deanna said. “At least we do know that, in another timeline, we managed it, and sooner than in this one.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Tasha said, her eyes going momentarily to the ghost of a planet looming above them. “I wonder if we’ll meet . . . ourselves.”

Deanna stopped suddenly. “I hadn’t thought of that. I hope not.”

“This isn’t time travel,” Tasha said idly, moving closer to Deanna as the wind chilled and putting an arm around her shoulder. Deanna accepted the motion, grabbing Tasha’s hand. “So, I don’t think we would hurt anything.”

“I think it would be too strange,” Deanna said. “It would be a different person, but it would also be me.” She found herself wondering why it was easier for them to be physically close, walking as they were, than to verbalise what they were really feeling.

“We don’t have to talk about that,” Tasha said. “We keep talking about work. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s what we’re used to. And I’d be lying if I said it was possible to forget what’s happening, even with . . . this.”

“Is it too soon to ask what this actually is?” Tasha asked, her voice suddenly tense.

“I believe humans call it a ‘first date.’”

Tasha suddenly laughed. “You say that like you haven’t been living around humans for years, or that you aren’t half human yourself.”

Deanna smiled. “Perhaps it was an attempt to make myself more exotic, the ‘mysterious alien’ if you will.”

“Oh you’re definitely mysterious,” Tasha said. “There’s no doubt about that.”

“In a good way?” Deanna was glad that the tension was slowly melting between them.

“Oh definitely in a good way. I’ve always respected how you’re able to project such an air of calm.”

“As an empath, it’s very easy to get caught up in the emotions of others, so I find myself pulling away. It makes me stand-offish at times.”

“Deanna, I’m not here to analyze your behaviour,” Tasha said, her voice warm. “You’re capable and smart and beautiful, and I don’t need you justifying anything to me.”

Deanna smiled, feeling suddenly younger and silly. “Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?”

“I think that was the general concept I was trying to convey, yes.”

“Well, I must say, I’m a bit annoyed that you got to say that, first. Now, whenever I let slip that I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, it’ll sound like I’m just scrambling to repay the compliment.”

“There is that,” Tasha said, mock serious. “But I think I’ll forgive it just this once.”

Even without her abilities, Deanna could feel that they had moved beyond something, become closer. They’d allowed the other into a closer circle beyond just friends. She wanted to push further, to jump down the next exhilarating cliff hand-in-hand. But a look upward reminded her that there was a massive emergency looming over them. This walk, wonderful as it was, could only be a small distraction. They had work to do. Tomorrow, they would hand-deliver their plan to the members of the Betazoid government who had been able to make it to the capitol building. Then, the day after that, they would embark on a dangerous mission back into space, armed with hope for the future. After that, they had no idea what would happen.

But she did know that, through it all, she would have Tasha. She didn’t know how, exactly, but if they remained merely close friends, she could accept that.

“Tasha,” she said, hesitantly, unsure what she even wanted to say. All she could manage was a squeeze of the other woman’s hand and a hesitant smile.

But something crossed through Tasha’s features, a look of fear and glee. Before Deanna could fully react, Tasha leaned forward and kissed her, tentative at first, and then deeper, an all-consuming kiss that filled Deanna’s entire being with an impression of Tasha that went beyond what even she would have been able to sense with her empathy. She felt Tasha’s strength, her courage, her capacity for caring and empathy, and her desperate need to be close to someone, drawing reassurance from them even as she would desperately fight to protect them. Deanna reached behind Tasha’s neck, pulling her toward her, feeling anchored, safe, revitalised, and blissfully complete for as long as their lips were together.

When Tasha pulled away, her expression was dazed and giddy.

“Well,” Deanna began, feeling lightheaded, “that wasn’t exactly what I was going to say, but I think that’s exactly what needed to be said.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, to this planet, but I wanted to make it clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt how I feel.” Tasha’s voice was almost sad.

“I understand,” Deanna said.

And that was all she needed to say. After that, they walked back to the compound, hands clasped, a unified front. The problems of tomorrow suddenly felt smaller, more easily faced. They were together.

And that was all that mattered, in that beautiful moment as night breezes swished fragrant currents between the trees.


	14. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha grow closer.

_Titan - 2379_

_Deanna took a breath and walked into one of_ Titan’s _holodecks. She wasn’t sure what she hoped to accomplish, but it felt like something within her was waiting for her to make some kind of move, something that would push her in a new direction, free her from the pull of the past._

_She didn’t like goodbyes, but this was one she couldn’t really ignore._

_“Computer, play program Troi 3.”_

_The black and yellow interior of the small room disappeared, replaced by a simple outdoor landscape, a green meadow under a calm blue sky bedecked with soft white clouds. The hill rolled up before her, leading to a small white stone dais, which she approached, anxious and uncertain._

_Once she drew nearer, the dais shimmered, and a ghostly image of Tasha Yar appeared, smiling and radiant, looking down at her. The old uniform she wore seemed a strange contrast to the black and grey of Deanna’s current uniform, but it fit the setting, and the personality of the wearer. Deanna couldn’t imagine Tasha in anything else._

_Deanna had left Tasha’s goodbye message unaltered, and she listened to it in its entirety, unsettled that she wasn’t more emotionally affected by it. She had viewed this message before. She knew the words. The sudden horrifying shock of Tasha’s death still hurt, but in the distant manner of an old war wound, healed but impossible to forget or ignore._

_Unlike in the original message, once Tasha finished, the image remained, expectant and silent. Deanna took another step forward and swallowed a few times to clear out the lump in her throat._

_“I realise you’re not really here,” Deanna began. “And I know that this is overly indulgent of me to be here, but I’m grieving over the death of a friend, a death I don’t know if I can face just yet. But I can face you.”_

_Tasha’s image smiled, as though urging her to go on._

_“You were the most beautiful part of my first year aboard the_ Enterprise _. I was so terrified of making a bad impression with Captain Picard, and of not being taken seriously by my crewmates. But you never saw the insecurity or the forced, stiff mask. You saw me. And even though it took a terrible tragedy to get us to admit that, I don’t think I would have made it through that first year without you.”_

_The hologram of Tasha said nothing, but the calm expression reassured Deanna, even though she knew the program was such that the image wouldn’t respond to her. But it helped to be able to speak to an image, an almost-tangible reminder of the real person._

_“I want you to know that, even though it took me years to recover from losing you, I was able to find happiness again. In fact, I’m married, now. Will Riker, of all people. I never thought_ that _particular flame would reignite, but it did, and I’m settling into a new position aboard a new ship, the_ Titan _. All this time, I’ve been carrying your memory with me, dividing myself in two. One part desperate for a return to the past where I could see you again, the other eager to move forward into the future and whatever new experiences it holds._

_“But I need to be a whole person, now. I need some kind of closure. I won’t ever forget you, Tasha, but I need to move forward.” She stopped as her voice caught and she suddenly realised that her cheeks were wet with tears, the simulated breezes of the program chilling the wet skin of her face. She swallowed and moved on. “I’ve refused to say goodbye for too long. Even though I’ve found stability and love with Will, my refusal to properly deal with losing you pushed me towards others who did not respect me, and I was so damaged by my inability to heal that I ignored warning signs. One such fling almost killed me.” She stopped. “Actually, it did kill me. Beverly had to end my life to break his hold on me. The point I’m trying to make is that I am a therapist, and it’s silly that it took me so long to see that I wasn’t allowing myself to get better._

_“And so it’s time for me to say goodbye. Goodbye Natasha. I miss you terribly. The part of me that loved you will always stay with me. So, now, as I move forward onto a new job and a new life, I want you to know, if you can know, that I would never dismiss what we had. You made me a better person, and I’ll never forget that.”_

_She wanted to say something else. She didn’t know how to put into words what she really wanted to say. If she hadn’t lost Tasha, she’d still be with her, and she wouldn’t be with Will. Did that make her a horrible person? She knew it didn’t, but she couldn’t help feeling the terrible weight of those two awful words: what if? Did one relationship matter more than the other?_

_No._

_She wiped away a fresh gout of tears. Both relationships were a part of her. She didn’t leave Tasha and run to Will. Tasha was stolen from her. And after years, she had healed enough to truly be vulnerable to another, a man from her past who had matured past the mistakes of his youth and who respected and trusted and loved her. Life is not a plot in a romantic novel, where there’s only one soul mate waiting at the end, a shining prize for the hero. Life is messy. And it’s possible to recover from tragedy and build a new life from the pieces of another._

_She would be okay._

_She looked up at the hologram of Tasha and smiled, an unbridled smile of joy at the memories she and Tasha shared. “Goodbye,” she said. At her word, the program responded, phasing the image away, leaving a clean, bright meadow filled with possibility._

_She took a deep breath and turned to leave the holodeck, feeling less broken than she had when she’d entered. The hurt was fading, replaced with the ache of healing._

_“Computer, end program.”_

***

Betazed - 2364

Deanna could see that Tasha was tense as they left the government building after briefing the Betazid government on their updated plan to get off the planet. Everyone had approved of Tasha and Deanna’s appointment to pilot the rocket, though a great many present had reservations about the plan’s usefulness. It had taken two hours of talk to convince them that getting what information their planetary sensors had gathered to a starship was their best chance. No one had seemed to really comprehend the time crunch they were under, since it wasn’t their planet that was in danger, which had frustrated both Deanna and Tasha.

“I guess I’m not much of a diplomat,” Tasha said, with a sigh as they sat down on a nearby bench to catch their breath.

“It wasn’t you,” Deanna said, placing a reassuring hand on Tasha’s arm. “They’re scared, and without their telepathic abilities, I know they were being more cautious than usual. They approved this plan days ago. They were just second-guessing things once they had a venue in which to complain.”

“You should have been an ambassador,” Tasha said, smiling.

“Oh my god, no,” Deanna said, laughing. “Ambassadors spend all their time sitting through tedious dinners and making pleasant small talk. I couldn’t do that.”

“Well, what I meant was, you’d make a good diplomat. You should handle diplomatic affairs on the _Enterprise_.”

Deanna shook her head, a bit more seriously. “I think Captain Picard prefers it if I leave that in his hands.”

“You’re selling yourself short, Deanna,” Tasha said. “You have skills you’re not using.”

“I just wish I knew what my job was on the bridge,” Deanna admitted. “I feel like I sit there giving obvious information to the Captain. During the polywater crisis, I spent most of my time standing over Doctor Crusher’s shoulder because I had nothing else to do.”

“What were Starfleet’s orders, when they assigned you?” Tasha asked.

“Very vague,” Deanna said, as they rose and began making their way back towards the Starfleet base. “My job as counselor makes sense, but as for my placement on the bridge, I’m supposed to act as an advisor to the Captain.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Yes, but I don’t really understand the captain just yet. I never know how to advise him.”

“I think you should speak up more,” Tasha said, then scoffed. “But I understand where you’re coming from. This assignment isn’t at all what I was expecting. I’ve never encountered so much . . . strangeness on any assignment before. Starfleet doesn’t really train you to face off against omnipotent beings or crazy drunken diseases.”

“You’re doing well. The crew is very impressed at how you run your department.”

Tasha tilted her head, doubtful. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Deanna stopped walking and turned to face Tasha. “Look, I think it’s safe to say that we’re heading towards territory in which we can be completely honest with one another. Please don’t think that I’m just saying what I think you need to hear.”

Tasha shrugged. “I guess I’m still figuring you out.”

“Well, now you’ve learned something else about me.”

They resumed walking, but this time, they walked closer to one another. The space between them was easier, brighter. After a few minutes, Tasha reached out and took Deanna’s hand. 

“Something else you can learn about me,” Deanna said, her voice gentle and playful, “is that I love long walks while holding hands.”

Tasha nodded seriously. “I’ll have to add that to my report.”

“Oh you’re going to add this to your report?”

“You know,” Tasha said, with a shrug, as though it was obvious, “for future reference.”

“I’m sure Starfleet would be fascinated to hear all about my private interests.”

“Actually, that brings up something else,” Tasha said, her voice changing subtly. “How . . . public do you want this to be?”

“Well, I don’t think you sweeping me into a passionate kiss on the bridge during a first contact situation would be very appropriate, for starters.”

Tasha laughed. “Oh darn, and here I was planning just that.”

“Other than that, I don’t feel like we need to keep this all hush hush. Unless you have any objections.”

“I don’t, no. It’s just . . .” Tasha nodded in thought. “I don’t want to make anything . . . awkward for you on the bridge.”

“If you’re talking about Commander Riker, that was over a long time ago, and we have both moved on.”

Tasha nodded silently. “Well, then in that case, I think I owe you an official date free of planetary tragedy once we get back to the _Enterprise_.”

“That’s fair,” Deanna said, leaning over to sneak a kiss. “But in the meantime, let’s take the long way back to the base.”


	15. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna and Tasha try to escape Betazed.

Beatazed - 2364

Deanna wasn’t claustrophobic, but there was something about the intensity of the straps holding her in place that unnerved her. The old-style rocket she and Tasha were now sitting in was as safe as possible, but still, the tight straps, the space suits, and the bays of darkened warning lights all around them gave the impression that, at any minute, the rocket could blow apart into a million fragments, ending their mission in a conflagration of burning rubble.

But there was no point in obsessing over such things. This rocket was not running on liquid fuel, and she was with a pilot who had a knack for making anything fly. 

 _No,_ she thought _, not just a pilot, a girlfriend_ . They hadn’t said the word out loud to one another yet, but it sat there, unsaid, and waiting patiently, ready to make an appearance whenever they needed it to. Deanna had thought maybe she was reading too much into Tasha’s actions, assigning feelings where none existed, but she dismissed that early on as a symptom of her inability to use her empathic abilities. Tasha _did_ care about her. She had kissed her. There was no room for doubt. They were together, unified against the future.

“7...6...5...4…”

The voice of the impromptu mission controller came through primitive radio speakers in their helmets. They weren’t the best quality, but they were able to break through the anomaly’s energy that was cutting off communication planetwide. The whole situation made Deanna feel as though she’d been sent back in time.

“...3...2...1...ignition!”

She was expecting a wall of sound, but the retrofitted engines roared to life in a small, distant sort of way. The one thing she was braced for was the lack of inertial dampeners as the rocket roared off the ground, squashing her into her cushioned seat. Paralysed by g-forces, she was unable to look over at Tasha, but she knew she was there. They were leaving Betazed together. Even if the _Hood_ couldn’t reach them in time, they had enough life support to keep them alive for two days.

The blue sky above them darkened incrementally until all of a sudden, it gave way to the darkness of open space. The glare of the anomaly and the light reflecting off Betazed itself made it difficult to make out the stars, but the change in the sound of the engines was enough to confirm what she was seeing. They were now in open space.

“First stage separation . . . now!” Tasha said, punching a button.

There was a jolt and a change in the sound of the engines, these closer and louder the first stage. 

Deanna reached to a panel to her right, her arm aching under the force of the rocket’s momentum, and flipped a switch, activating the manoeuvring thrusters. The force of acceleration lessened and Troi felt a weight lifting from her chest and she found herself able to breathe easier. The crash courses in how to operate the rocket she and Tasha received in between everything that had happened over the past two days were woefully inadequate, but they had told them the bare minimum necessary, mentioning that troubleshooting would have to be done over the staticky radio line they’d set up, but that would be intermittent at best, and almost nonexistent during liftoff. But here they were, in one piece, hurtling through space in a rebuilt antique.

It was exhilarating in a way.

“You okay?” Tasha asked from her seat, her voice sounding breathless.

“I am,” Deanna said, feeling a sudden rush of unbidden emotions, all vying for her attention within her. The pulse of her heart left her feeling giddy and anxious, but the sheer insanity of what they had just accomplished was suffusing her with a sense of elation, tempered by the knowledge that the fate of her planet was in their hands, and they were in the hands of the _Hood_ ’s crew whom she hoped would be able to find them before they drifted out of range. She wondered if the anomaly’s effects were growing in some way, expanding outward. Was the _Hood_ even able to detect them?

“Tasha?” she asked, her voice suddenly small.

“Yes, Deanna?”

“We’re going to be okay.” It was half a question, half a fervent assertion, a command directed at the universe.

“Are you worried?”

“Are you?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“I am, too.”

Tasha’s voice assumed a stronger tone. “We are going to be okay. I’m here for you.”

Deanna felt another surge of emotion, but this time it wasn’t her own emotions. She blinked. “Tasha . . . I . . . I can sense your emotions.”

“You can?”

“Yes! We must be beyond the anomaly’s rim.” She wanted to weep. It was as though a part of her soul has returned after being stolen. It felt incredibly fitting that said part of her being was now suffused with Tasha’s fear and resolve to survive, both bolstering Deanna’s own uncertainty with something stronger. Yes. They were going to survive this. She knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She peered out the front windows, squinting into the darkness. “Do you see the _Hood_?”

“No,” Tasha said. “But if we’re beyond the influence of the anomaly, we should be able to get a distress call out.” She paused. “Any ideas?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Deanna began, a smile curling her mouth. “But if you can get me out of this space suit, I’ll be able to reach my communicator.”

“No promises, there,” Tasha said, with a laugh. 

“Regarding?”

“Not taking that the wrong way.”

“Well, I suppose I walked right into that one.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be much help. I guess I just assumed--”

Her comment was cut off as Deanna felt the static tingle of a transporter beam grab them. The tiny cramped cockpit faded away to reveal . . . transporter room three of the _Enterprise D_ . Deanna blinked for a moment, staring at Data and Will Riker who were regarding them with querying glances. _Why hadn’t the_ Hood _found them?_ She wondered, confused, yet glad to be in a familiar place.

Finally Tasha managed to pop off her helmet and said, “Get us out of these damned suits and we’ll explain everything.” Her voice was muffled by Deanna’s own helmet, but Will and Data sprang into action. As soon as Deanna had her own helmet off, she said, “Make sure you beam the capsule into a cargo bay. Its computer has information that we can use to save Betazed.”

 

Deanna had to force herself to relax once they were all situated in the conference room, she surrounded by familiar faces, though Tasha was on the other side of the long black table rather than next to her where she felt she should be.

“I think we’re all glad,” Picard began, obviously unsure where to even start, “to find both our counselor and security chief unharmed.”

“I’m curious how you found us at all,” Tasha said. “Is the _Hood_ alright?”

“They’re fine,” Picard reassured her. “But had to take a step back after an attempt to break through the anomaly’s interference left them without a functioning main computer. Captain DeSoto has assured us that they will be fine. It’s quite lucky that we intercepted their distress signal when we did, or you and Counselor Troi would have ended up drifting for quite some time.”

Deanna shuddered.

Data spoke up, his voice almost cheery, which helped to break through the looming spectre of what might have happened. “Captain, I have analysed the data they brought back from Betazed, and cross referenced our long-range scans of the anomaly with others in the Federation database.”

“Anything helpful?”

“Not as of yet, Captain, but it has helped me to offer a hypothesis as to the nature of the anomaly.”

“Elaborate.”

Data called up a holographic representation of the anomaly, a simple wire-frame model of two planets, one fading away. It all seemed so simple and innocuous to Deanna when rendered in such pared-down terms. But she knew the terror of what it represented to her people.

The android gestured to the model as he spoke. “The planet we see here is actually a Betazed from another timeline, one that diverged from our own roughly four centuries prior. In broad strokes, it’s identical to the Betazed from our timeline, but elements of their people’s development are different.”

“Such as my father having survived,” Deanna said, without thinking. All eyes turned to her.

“Fascinating,” Data said.

The only face who didn’t seem shocked or amazed was Tasha’s, and Deanna appreciated that small gesture. In that moment, Tasha was the only one who didn’t see her as a curiosity. She was still Deanna. 

She shot a gentle smile toward her girlfriend, and blushed slightly when she felt a surge of affection directed back toward her. Although they had not managed to make much headway thus far, Deanna appreciated being able to sense Tasha’s thoughts. They were so earnest and clear.

Data continued, not having picked up on the general emotion of wonder and uncertainty which swept through the room as each officer considered the ramifications of being able to see lost family members again. “The other planet, the Betazed native to our timeline, is being pushed out of time. Once the process is complete, it will be destroyed.”

He said it so casually, not realising the effect the blunt words had on Deanna and the others.

“How so?” Tasha asked.

“The planet cannot exist in a timeline other than its own,” Data said, as though it was the easiest thing to grasp.

“But Data,” Beverly Crusher said, speaking up, “we know that people can travel through time. There are multiple reports of time travel taking people into the past or the future. Captain Kirk managed it multiple times. And on a few occasions, history was changed to the point where the future they returned to was altered.”

“That is true, Doctor,” Data said, “but that is a different circumstance. Betazed could be forced into a different point of its own timeline, creating changes in its future, but it would be unaffected because its transit through time would thus become a part of its own timeline. However, if it moved to a point in an alternate timeline where its quantum signature did not match the universe it inhabited, it would destabilise and eventually be destroyed. A person could possibly briefly inhabit alternate timelines, but a planet would be subject to sweeping quantum shear, which would rip it apart.”

“And what about the Betazed from the other timeline, the one we visited?” Deanna tried to keep her voice calm, but a tremor escaped nonetheless.

“It would be subject to the same phenomenon, Counselor,” Data said. “The presence of the other planet is acting as an anchor, but once it moves completely out of our timeline, that anchor will be lost and it, too, will be destroyed.”

The ramifications of what they had to prevent made Troi feel suddenly tiny and helpless, but she fought the looming feeling of despair and forced herself to focus. “So,” she said, “how can we prevent this?”

The room was silent, but then Worf spoke up. “If we destroy the foreign Betazed, would it allow the true planet to return?”

A horrified silence filled the room until Captain Picard cleared his throat. “Let’s say that is a contingency plan, an extreme last measure.”

“I do not believe that would accomplish anything,” Data said, and the room relaxed.

Deanna gave Worf a curious look. The Klingon was an odd person, capable of great tenderness and insight, but resorting to brutal and often extreme suggestions as though he felt like he had to. Deanna had always felt that Worf’s true nature had yet to reveal itself. Like herself, she sensed that he was uncertain aboard this ship, uncomfortable, and was putting forward a threatening veneer to keep people at a distance. Deanna made a mental note to suggest counseling for all the senior staff, if for no other reason that to foster a sense of trust between them.

“We’re running out of time,” Picard said, “so I want a suggestion sooner rather than later.”

“What if,” Geordi LaForge said, speaking up for the first time, “we try to seal the breach. Would that return the planets to their original timelines?”

Data looked suddenly perplexed. “Perhaps, but I do not see how we would accomplish such a thing.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” LaForge said. “Now, I may not be an engineer, but I’ve always been fascinated by spacial anomalies. There’s a paper I read some years back that theorized that rifts between quantum realities may resonate with certain warp fields.”

“And parallel timelines would no doubt behave similar to quantum realities?” Will said, frowning.

Geordi nodded uncertainly. “Yes, and no. They’re similar, but are different beasts. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t give it a try.”

“Use the _Enterprise_ to seal the rift?” Picard asked.

“Exactly.”

“Then get to work,” the captain said, rising from his seat.

And just like that, the senior officers scattered. Deanna stayed in her seat long enough to note that Tasha was staying behind. Once everyone had left, she crossed the room to join Deanna. “Are you alright?” she asked.

Deanna took her hand and squeezed it. “I will be. Right now, I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Tell me about it,” Tasha said. “Well, I know we won’t have time now, but once this is all over, and we’ve saved your planet, I have a wonderful holodeck program, the crystal beaches of Archer 4. We can visit and I promise you won’t have to worry about anything at all.”

Deanna reached over a drew Tasha into a brief kiss, and then spoke, looking directly into her beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Noted,” Tasha said with a smirk. “Now let’s go find a way to save your planet.”

  


	16. The Girl in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna finds herself thinking about the future

Titan - 2379

_“Commander,” a male voice called down the corridor, “do you have a minute?”_

_Deanna turned to see Ranul Keru, Titan ’s new security chief and tactical officer, striding toward her with long easy strides. An unjoined Trill, he had come over to the Enterprise following the Shinzon incident. Deanna was happy to have another familiar face among this crew, but she was also glad that Keru would have a chance to move on after losing his husband, Sean Hawk, during the First Contact mission to Earth’s past. She hadn’t had a chance to speak to him at length, but she was aware of the trauma he had endured, and hoped that a new setting and a new crew would be good for him._

_“Lieutenant-Commander Keru” she said, still unsure how formal she needed to be when dealing with this new crew. “How can I help you?”_

_“I was wondering if you could clarify this transmission I received from . . .” His voice caught momentarily before continuing, “...from Commander Worf on the_ Enterprise _.”_

_Deanna sensed a flare of complicated emotion from the Trill that passed quickly. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but she suspected the mention of Worf bothered him. Thinking back, it had been Worf who had shot Lieutenant Hawk after he’d been assimilated by the Borg. Perhaps, she mused, she should encourage Keru to set up a regular counselling appointment with her. Though his service record in the years since the Borg attack had been excellent, there was obviously still some unresolved issues at play._

_She took the PADD he held out to her and studied it, smiling suddenly. “I know why Worf sent you this,” she said, handing Tasha’s Security Guidelines from the Enterprise back to him. “And it is completely up to you if you wish to implement any of Lieutenant Yar’s policies here on_ Titan _. We on the_ Enterprise _thought very highly of her.”_

_He seemed to deflate a little. “Oh, of course. Well, I will look over them. The Commander made it seem like it was a requirement.”_

_Deanna laughed and shook her head. “Worf knows how the Captain and I felt about Tasha’s brief service aboard the_ Enterprise _, and probably felt that we would appreciate the gesture. But your department is your own, and the decision is up to you.”_

_That seemed to reassure the young man. He ran a hand through his beard. “That’s good to know. I feel kind of guilty that I never met her. She sounds like she was pretty incredible.”_

_Deanna smiled. “She was. But don’t let yourself be haunted by ghosts.” She paused, her voice becoming distant. “No matter how much you may wish to be.”_

_He cocked his head. “Excuse me?”_

_She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, it’s nothing.”_

_“Well,” he said, continuing, “I think I know how you feel.”_

_She caught the chill of melancholy that swept over him. “My office is always open if you want to talk about anything. I know you’re probably still dealing with your loss, and I know some techniques and therapies that may help.”_

_He grew sheepish. “Is it that obvious?”_

_“Oh no,” she said, throwing up her hands, “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I just know that what you’re going through can be very difficult. I . . . I went through something very similar.”_

_He nodded, a question forming behind his eyes, but he left it unasked. “Well, then, I will talk to you later. I’m sure your very busy.”_

_“You as well. Take care, Commander.”_

_“Thanks.”_

_As he continued down the corridor, she wondered if she should have mentioned just what Tasha had meant to her. Her loss had been tragically similar to what Keru had faced. But the thought faded away. She was the Captain’s wife, and this was a new crew. It was probably important if she remained something of a mystery to them. The last thing she needed was rumours floating around. Keru didn’t strike her as a rumour-monger, but still, it was probably important if she maintained her privacy at this point._

_She turned and caught him just before he disappeared behind a corner._

_I know what you’re going through , she projected to him, though she knew he wouldn’t be able to hear it. I_ promise _it gets better._

***

Enterprise - 2364

Deanna didn’t find herself in engineering very much, but she enjoyed this part of the ship. Everyone was focused and generally in good spirits. The ship hadn’t been able to keep a chief engineer for longer than a few weeks, so far, each person either getting a promotion and reassignment, or stepping down from the position, unsure they would be able to handle the workload. That uncertainty gave the area a sort of free-flowing quality, with each person taking charge when needed, co-operating when necessary, but generally remaining content to work alone. It was like Engineering existed in a state of unusually calm anarchy at times.

She approached Data, Will, and young Wesley Crusher who were all standing around a large workspace, analysing simulations.

“Ah, Deanna,” Will said, “thank you for joining us.”

“Have you found anything?” she asked, leaning over to analyse the data.

“Our simulations have not been successful,” Data said in his unbothered manner.

“Only because you haven’t listened to my idea!” Wesley said.

“Wes,” Will said, his tone that of a stern teacher. “Not now.”

“Wait,” Deanna said, not wanting to rule anything out, even if it was just the fancy of a teenager. She turned to him. “What’s your idea, Wesley?”

Wesley beamed and quickly punched in a series of commands into the display. “I read that paper that Lieutenant LaForge mentioned, and I don’t think it’s right. It doesn’t take into account weird fluctuations in quantum gravity.”

“Define ‘weird,’” Will said with a weary sigh.

“I came up with an algorithm to scan the anomaly beyond the normal range, taking into account its position in subspace, and I think we’ll need two warp fields, each resonating at a slightly different frequency.”

Data looked puzzled. “How were you able to create such an algorithm?”

Wesley shrugged. “It just made sense. I guess I just sort of visualised it and worked backwards.”

Deanna blinked. She had no idea what the boy was talking about, but by the look on Data’s face, she suspected he might be on to something. She turned to Data. “Does this make any sense to you?”

Data examined the data Wesley brought up on the screen. “I believe so, Counselor. Most intriguing. By using two ships and intersecting the warp fields of each ship at right angles to one another, and then oscillating the frequencies of the two fields . . . it may close the breach, returning the planets to their correct timelines.”

“What do you need to pull this off, Data?” Will asked, shooting a glance at Wesley, as though wondering if the boy was lying about where he got his idea. 

Deanna sensed no deception form the boy, only a desperate desire to be taken seriously, but even she was more than a little puzzled at how he’d managed such an advanced feat of quantum physics on his own. She shook her head, not wanting to worry about it. If it helped the rest of the crew figure out how to save her world, she was willing to try it.

“Once the _Hood_ has finished her repairs, we could utilise her warp field.”

“Will they be finished in time?” Deanna asked.

“I can send over some engineering teams to assist them,” Will said, and the group dispersed.

It wasn’t until Deanna was out in the corridor, heading back to her office, that she remembered that she had forgotten to thank Wesley Crusher.

 ***

She stayed in her office for only a few minutes before returning to her quarters. At this point, she didn’t have much that she needed to do. The fate of her world was now in the hands of engineers and the science teams of two starships. They had no use for a counselor.

She shook her head and moved to her desk. Feeling sorry for herself would accomplish nothing. She had uncovered the nature of the anomaly, and had brought that information back to people who could help. She was contributing to saving her world, even if, right now, she had to wait and pace in frustration. 

She rose and moved to the bathroom sink, staring into the mirror. The Deanna Troi who looked out at her was more than a little worse for wear. She wondered if this was the Deanna Troi Tasha saw when she looked at her, or if she only saw an idealised version of Deanna, free of fear and uncertainty, a perfect hologram of her, devoid of any connection to the real woman.

She dismissed the idea as melancholic nonsense, but then she thought of another mirror image, the alternate Deanna Troi from the other timeline, a woman who was in a relationship with Tasha already, knew her better than Deanna herself did. She thought of how things would turn out for them. Would they end up together forever, devoted and happy, or would they grow apart, ending things in resentment and hurt?

She turned from the mirror in frustration. Why was she doing this to herself? Seeing Tasha made her weak in the knees and giddy. Why was she trying to poison herself against the idea that they could be happy together? Was she so pessimistic that she knew they’d never be able to save her world? That she’d end up broken and empty and would push Tasha away? Was she trying to spare herself in advance? What was the purpose of this train of thought?

Intellectually, she knew she was merely looking for an outlet for her fear and frustration, and that she didn’t really believe any of this. She knew that Tasha would stay by her even if she fell into a bleak depression. She knew, also, that they could still save her world, and that everything could be okay.

But the irrational pull of anxiety, brought on by lack of proper sleep and constant bursts of adrenaline, said otherwise, and if she didn’t do something about it, it would only get worse.

“Troi to Doctor Crusher,” she said, tapping her communicator.

“ _This is Doctor Crusher. What is it Deanna?_ ”

“Are you free to meet with me if I come to sickbay?”

“ _Always. Are you feeling alright?_ ”

“Not really, but I’d like to come and see you in person.”

“ _I’ll be here_.”

And so Deanna fought back the anxious voices clamouring for her attention and walked out the door.


	17. Once More Unto the Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Enterprise tries to seal the breach

Enterprise 2364

Deanna woke the next morning feeling somewhat more herself. Doctor Crusher had spoken to her at length about her anxious feelings, and had prescribed a mild sedative to take the edge off, and then a glass of warm milk with nutmeg, a staple of her Aunt Adele, to help her sleep. The whirling thoughts in her head had calmed to the point where she was able to sleep, and even though she found herself dreaming of shapeless dangers looming beyond her reach, her mind was less fuzzy when she stepped out of bed and heard a chime at her door.

She stepped out of bed and wrapped a robe around her nightgown. “Come in,” she said, not even bothering to consider what sort of disaster her hair was at that moment.

The door opened and Tasha, wearing a grey tracksuit, leaned in. “Did I wake you?” she asked, looking suddenly embarrassed.

“No, actually. I just got up.” She paused, unsure what to do next. This was Tasha, her girlfriend, and yet the old habits reared their heads. Before the Betazed mission, she never would have invited Tasha into her quarters, but things were different, now. So why was she hesitating? Was she unable to believe that their fledgling relationship was real, something to be only distantly acknowledged lest she scare it away? No, that was nonsense.

“Come in, Tasha,” Deanna said, approaching the other woman and taking her hand.

“Is it bad that the only thing I can think of right now is how, the last time I was in here, I broke in and started trying on your clothes?”

Deanna nearly giggled at that. “And here I thought you didn’t remember that.”

“Oh, I remember the broad strokes,” Tasha said, sitting in a chair and resting her hands in her lap, her shoulders oddly tense. “But I can’t remember what I said, specifically.”

“Well, you said nothing but nice things.”

“Ugh, I’m still so embarrassed at that.”

“Don’t be,” Deanna said, moving to the replicator. “You weren’t acting like yourself.” Leaning toward the replicator, she said, “One iced tea and one hot mint tea.”

The two drinks materialized and Deanna took the hot tea for herself and handed the iced tea to Tasha who blinked in surprise.

“You didn’t have to,” she said as she accepted the cold drink, obviously grateful.

“Not at all,” she said. “How was your morning workout?” Deanna asked, curing her fingers around the steaming mug and blowing on the hot surface gently. 

“Pretty good, actually. I went running on the holodeck.”

“Oh?” Deanna said.

“There’s a great prairie trail program. Gentle hills and blowing grasses. It was nice. Do you run, Deanna?”

Deanna smiled and shook her head. “Not often. I prefer low-impact calisthenics. I’ve been studying Tai ji quan for a few years, and really enjoy that.”

“Have you ever heard of Mok’bara?” Tasha asked.

“Is it Bajoran?”

“Klingon, actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Our own Lieutenant Worf knows it. I’ve been trying to convince him to start teaching classes. You might enjoy that as well.”

“We’ll see,” Deanna said. “I know we’re all Starfleet officers, and should be prepared to act in emergency situations, but let me tell you, the day Doctor Crusher invents a drug that lets you eat chocolate and read books and stay in military shape without working out, I am offering myself up for sentient trials.”

They laughed.

A pause passed between them as they drank in silence. 

“Do you . . .” Tasha began, “feel . . . awkward?”

Deanna looked up at her. “Do you?”

“A little.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I think it’s just, now that we’re back here, old habits are kicking in. We didn’t start to get . . . close until we went down to Betazed.”

Tasha nodded. “It’s so silly, right?”

“Not really,” Deanna said, smiling easily. We’re still getting to know one another.” She finished her tea. “You know what might be nice? Do you want to take a quick walk on the holodeck? I can bring up my favourite garden district from Betazed. See if we can’t shake away some of this lingering workplace awkwardness. I don’t start my shift for another couple hours.”

Tasha grinned suddenly. “I’d love that. But are you sure you’ll have enough time to get ready after?”

Deanna rose, stepped over to Tasha and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “We’ll make it quick. I just really want to spend some time with your before we start rearranging the space-time continuum.”

 ***

Deanna was glad they had spared time for the twenty-minute walk, because by the time she arrived on the bridge, hair vaguely brushed into a hairstyle she could only describe as “electrocuted poodle,” she felt a surge of apprehension from the crew. The memory of the green vibrant gardens garlanded in flowers and birdsong, Tasha’s hand in hers, served as a calming anchor, allowing her to block out the crew’s tension and focus on the task at hand. 

She assumed her post and sat down on the captain’s left, unsure what to expect.

Picard turned to her. “Counselor, can you sense anything from the planet?”

“No, Captain,” she said, shaking her head. “The anomaly blocks my abilities, but the fact that I can sense the emotions of the crew is a good sign. It means the effect of the anomaly isn’t expanding.”

“And do the people on Betazed know what’s happening?”

“They suspect, but their sensors don’t work. They do know that Tasha and I,” she paused suddenly, feeling the sudden looming presence of Tasha, standing at the tactical position behind her, and hoping she hadn’t heard the unprofessional familiarity. “I mean Lieutenant Yar and I are going to implement a plan based on the data they sent back with us, but there’s no way to communicate with them what is going to happen.”

“Well, then let’s just hope we’re successful.” He paused, and then said, a little quieter, “And although I do prefer a certain amount of professionalism from my officers, I don’t believe a first name is a court martial offence.” 

She turned to him and noticed a softening of his eyes, the beginning of a wry smile lurking behind the implacable exterior. She nodded slightly and then turned back to the viewscreen where the image of the bifurcated Betazed loomed, the blooming colours of the anomaly flared out behind the two worlds. Her Betazed was not little more than a crescent, the rest of the world nearly gone, the ghost of its presence fading away to nothingness.

“Is the _Hood_ in position?” Picard asked.

“Negative, Captain,” Data said, entering a series of commands into his terminal. “She is nowhere on our sensors.”

“What?”

Deanna felt the bottom drop out beneath her stomach and a chill ran up her spine. “Did they fall into the anomaly?”

Data continued his scans. “Uncertain. They left no trail.”

“They’re gone?” Worf asked from the helm.

“Captain,” Data said. “If they remain close to the planet, when we seal the breach, they should be returned to our timeline.”

“Her certain of that can you be?” Picard asked.

“Uncertain,” Data said. “Much of what we are attempting has never been tried before. I cannot say what the outcome will be, only offer a hypothesis.”

“But how can we seal the breach with only one ship?” Deanna asked, feeling cold.

Data’s nimble hands flew across his terminal display. “We could attempt our original plan and try to seal the breach with one ship only, but the stresses on our hull would be immense.”

“Captain!” Worf called out. “Look!”

Deanna turned to the viewscreen and her eyes widened. The space in front of them was tearing, a twisting distortion of the fabric of reality. Like folds of fabric being pulled into an ancient machine, the surface of reality bent and then folded in upon itself to the point where it began actually spreading outward, a strange fractal rippling through the image before them. And then the rip vanished and a ship floated in space as through dropped out of nowhere.

Except it wasn’t the _Hood_.

“It’s a Galaxy-class starship,” Picard said, awed. “Which vessel is it?”

Data read his display, his sensors pinging off the ship’s ID beacon. “1701-D, U.S.S. _Enterprise_.”

The bridge fell completely silent.

“They are hailing us,” Worf announced. 

“On screen,” Picard said, his voice a little shaken.

The face that appeared was not at all what anyone expected, and at their appearance, Deanna gave an audible gasp.

The face on the screen spoke. “I am Captain Deanna Troi of the _Enterprise_. Would you be able to explain what just happened to my ship?”


	18. Que Sera, Sera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deanna meets with...Deanna

Enterprise - 2364

Deanna felt the sudden curious pressure of everyone’s eyes turn to her, as though she had some kind of answer. Her double stared out from the viewscreen, her expression bewildered and yet shaded with suspicion. No doubt, Captain Troi was feeling the same as Commander Troi, regarding this other ship as an impostor, an anomaly, a fake. Deanna couldn’t form coherent thoughts at present as she continued to stare blankly at the image, willing the other to speak first and offer up some kind of rational explanation.

But it was Picard who spoke first. “Captain, we seem to have encountered some kind of anomaly that is affecting multiple elements of spacetime. If what I suspect is true, then you have just been pulled into an alternate timeline.”

“I can see that,” Captain Troi said, her gaze flicking momentarily away from Picard, meeting Deanna’s own eyes for a brief moment. 

“But,” Picard continued, “we have a plan to seal the breach and return your Betazed to its original timeline, and actually, we could use your help.”

Captain Troi relaxed slightly. “Our own Betazed is being displaced in our timeline, as well. My chief engineer used a high-powered chroniton pulse to disrupt the anomaly, but it seems our plan has failed.”

Data spoke up, “Actually, Captain Troi, your engineer was correct in assuming a chroniton pulse would affect the anomaly. Unfortunately, such a pulse would only enhance its effects, not seal it. Is that what brought you here?”

The other captain smiled at that. “It is. And I find that interesting since you, Commander Data, are my chief engineer.”

Data blinked at that and said, merely, “fascinating.”

Picard turned to Deanna and gave a subtle hint that she should follow his lead. “Captain, we are planning on using the warp fields of two starships to seal the breach. Are your engines in working order?”

The other captain turned to her ops officer, a Bolian, who nodded at her. “They are,” the other Troi said, “Captain . . . ?”

This seemed to throw Picard off, momentarily. “Uh, Picard, Captain Picard.”

“Jean-Luc Picard?” Captain Troi asked, her eyes widening. “In my timeline, I heard that you--”

“Perhaps,” Picard said, tactfully cutting the other Troi off, “we should refrain from sharing too much information about our respective timelines. I do believe there would be too much risk of contaminating future events.”

Captain Troi nodded. “I understand, Captain. Do you think there would be any risk in my coming aboard with my chief engineer to be briefed on your plan?”

Picard shifted uneasily and gave Deanna a quick look. She nodded imperceptibly. Picard turned back to the viewscreen. “I think that would be excellent. We are running out of time, so we must make the necessary modifications in the next two hours.”

“Understood, Captain. I will beam aboard immediately.”

Picard tapped his communicator as the image on the screen vanished. “Transporter room three, prepare to receive a delegation from the other _Enterprise_.”

“ _Yes, sir_ ,” came the reply, followed by, “ _Did you say other_ Enterprise _?”_

“I did, Ensign.”

“ _Understood_.”

Deanna rose with the Captain.

“Data,” Picard said, “will you join me in Transporter room three?”

“Right away, sir,” the android replied, rising from his seat while another officer moved to take his place.

Deanna tried to fight the bizarre crawling sensation in her flesh as she prepared to meet her own duplicate in person. Just before the turbolift doors closed, she met Tasha’s eyes, and was grateful to see her girlfriend looking pained on her behalf, obviously wishing she could accompany Deanna to face the embodiment of another lifetime. 

Deanna tried to force back the beginning bloom of jealousy and inadequacy that came from knowing that she _could_ have been a captain. Was her current rank merely the result of a lack of ambition, or did the other Deanna Troi end up as captain through a freak series of accidents? Was it because her father never died in that timeline, and was there to encourage her in ways her mother hadn’t? Or was it because she ended up with Tasha earlier in her life? She hadn’t even met the other Troi yet, and yet she felt inexplicably hostile toward her, as though she must have become captain through a sort of heartless ambition, using and abusing others to rise through the ranks faster than Deanna herself had. She knew, academically, that such assumptions were baseless, and she also knew that she had been fighting feelings of inadequacy since she started aboard the _Enterprise_ , but that was only the result of unfamiliar surroundings. Her hostile reaction to this duplicate was merely an irrational expression of this same feeling. 

But that didn’t mean that said irrational part of her mind couldn’t wrestle control away from the rational therapist’s mind.

The turbolift doors opened and as Picard and Data moved to step out, she was suddenly violently aware of their presence. It had been as though she had retreated so far into her mind that no one else existed. Their presence gave her a modicum of reassurance, especially Data, whose emotions she couldn’t read. His presence had always been calming to her.

“Counselor, are you sure you are going to be alright with this?” Picard asked.

She smiled weakly. “It is going to be very strange to face a duplicate of myself, but I’ll be okay. Thank you for asking.”

They stepped into the transporter room and Picard nodded to the transporter chief, who activated the beam. In a cascade of particle energy, two people materialised: one, an exact copy of Data, down to the rank and uniform; the other, Deanna Troi, but one whose carriage was somehow straighter, but tempered by a practiced humbleness affected so as to keep the red uniform from pulling Deanna away from who she was. This last observation was conjecture, but Deanna knew exactly how she would react should she be placed in command. She would never want to appear changed by her position, so she would actively pull herself back, so she could cultivate a working relationship with her crew rather than ordering them about from a high seat.

“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Picard said, extending a hand to Captain Troi. “This is no doubt a strange circumstance.”

“Agreed, Captain,” the other Troi said, flicking a glance at Deanna. “Though I think it is most unusual to you and me, Deanna,” she said, a casual smile softening her features.

“Yes,” Deanna said, matching her counterpart’s smile.

The two Datas were having a much easier time reconciling their dual existence, standing next to one another with the ease that came from not having any emotional investment in the implications of meeting another of themselves.

The odd group made their way to a smaller room adjoining engineering, where Data and Data explained the situation, adding what information the other lacked. When Data explained what Deanna had discovered, and explained Wesley Crusher’s suggestion to use two warp fields in tandem, the other Data nodded in agreement.

“We have the necessary equipment to make the attempt, Captain,” the other android said to Captain Troi. “We should begin immediately.”

Picard nodded. “Let me know if you require any assistance. The other ship we were going to make the attempt with has been pulled into the anomaly, but I think having both ships be Galaxy-class may help our cause. Our warp cores are more powerful than the Excelsior-class, so strange as this is, I think it may work in our favour.”

“Let us hope so, Captain,” Troi said, glancing over at Deanna. “If our meeting is concluded, may I have a moment alone with Deanna?”

Deanna blinked at that, but when Picard turned to her, she nodded. “It’s fine, Captain.”

Picard and the two Datas left behind a strange tension hovering in the air between the two Deannas like the stifling humidity preceding a cloudburst.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Troi said to Deanna, “but I wanted to make something clear, since I know I would have the same concerns were I in your position.”

“Yes?” Deanna said, feeling suddenly chastened as though she was a little girl being scolded by her mother. The other Troi had a much more commanding presence, almost an arrogance about her. But then again that may be the result of the tension that no doubt came from meeting one’s double, another who perhaps knew one as much as oneself.

“You are not a failure,” Troi said, her voice tense.

Deanna blinked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s obvious you’re not a captain,” Troi said, leaning back. “But I want you to know that that’s okay.”

“Okay,” Deanna said, feeling more than a little bewildered.

“I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything even remotely close to this, but I do know that it must be very strange to meet yourself, and even moreso to see that another version of yourself is a higher rank than you are yourself.”

“How did you manage it?”

“On my first assignment, I considered switching to the science track and studying sociology, but an Andorian friend of me mentored me, and convinced me to stay where I was. After a few years, I was placed in command of the ship, and got us through a bizarre ion storm. After that, I was convinced that I wanted to command my own ship someday.”

Deanna was silent for a moment before responding. Nothing Captain Troi had mentioned was familiar. For some reason, the lack of an obvious point of divergence was reassuring. The differences of their lives was no doubt the result of a great many small events pushing Deanna gradually into a different career track, rather than any one decision or mistake. They were different people. And that meant that Deanna wasn’t a failure. She was a completely separate individual. The realisation made her want to breathe out a sigh. “You must be proud of your accomplishments, as I am of mine.”

Captain Troi relaxed visibly and nodded, her smile warming. “I do want to know one thing, though, and forgive me if this is impertinent, but are you and Tasha Yar . . . ?”

Deanna nodded, her face flushing with a sudden heat at being asked so directly about something that, as of yet, was still something she wished to keep between herself and Tasha. “Yes. It’s . . . recent, but . . . but yes.”

Captain Troi nodded. “One word of advice. And this isn’t breaking any confidence. But Tasha will always prefer to talk about you and what’s going on with your life rather than open up about her own feelings. I took that for granted for the first year of our relationship, and it took time before I realised that I was eclipsing her. Always remember to give her space, and to give her room to exist as a separate person. She will always ask about you, and won’t expect you to ask about her. Don’t let that get in the way of you discovering what an incredible, talented, fun person she is.”

Deanna felt a little thrown by the captain’s comment. Had she been ignoring Tasha? They had been so caught up in the current crisis that they hadn’t had much time to spend together, and when they did, Tasha had often always asked after Deanna. She felt an odd surge of guilt, at that.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Captain Troi said, smiling in a knowing manner, having obviously picked up the surge of Deanna’s emotion. 

“Perhaps we should refrain from sharing too much more about our respective lives,” Deanna said, suddenly feeling as though they were gossiping about Tasha behind her back. She knew that she wanted nothing more than to become a part of Tasha’s life, learning everything she could about her, but Captain Troi had a slightly harder edge to her, a brashness that evidently came from her rise through the command track, and Deanna could see the potential for their conversation to move from friendly advice to her learning private details that she would prefer to have remain private for now, details that she could discover from her relationship with Tasha organically as their relationship deepened.

Troi picked up on what Deanna was suggesting and nodded. “Understood. I should return to my ship anyways. We have two planets and two starships to save.”

Deanna watched the captain go, grateful that she was herself, and that events in her life had led her to this moment. That other person was familiar in broad strokes, but their divergent timelines had turned them into two different people. And for the first time since seeing that other face on the viewscreen, Deanna felt neither jealousy nor inadequacy. She was herself, and that was as it should be. 

She moved to rejoin the bridge, wishing more than ever that she could enjoy a quiet moment with Tasha. 


	19. Confluence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Enterprise attempts to close the breach

Enterprise - 2364

“The captain and her chief engineer are back aboard their ship,” Tasha announced some time later. Deanna sat at her chair, poring over Data’s report on the anomaly and the plan to seal it. Some of the physics went over her head, and she wasn’t a part of the team that would be implementing the modifications to the warp field, but reading the plan and studying it kept her mind occupied. She found herself suddenly jealous of young Wesley Crusher. He was a child, and yet he still found ways to help the crew, assisting the chief engineers and contributing his own strange insight to the situation. All Deanna could do at present was wait.

Unless. The rush of emotion came out of nowhere, a strange island of discord amid the peaceful professionalism of the ship. 

She rose suddenly. “Permission to leave the bridge, Captain?”

Picard seemed startled by the sudden movement. “Granted, counselor. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Captain.” She considered giving him an explanation of what she wanted to do. But she realized, sensing his emotional state and seeing the calm expression on his face, that he trusted her. She didn’t need to explain herself. “I will be in engineering. Please contact me if you need anything.”

“Yes, Counselor.”

As she moved to the turbolift, she gave Tasha a reassuring smile. Tasha responded in turn, smiling back. She wished there could have been more to their interaction, but they were entirely too busy to--

Tasha suddenly said, “Permission to leave the bridge, Captain.”

Picard turned. “Problem?”

“No sir,” she said. “I’d like to join Counselor Troi to engineering. I’m still finalizing my ship’s security protocols, and I’d like to verify the safety procedures for the upcoming procedure.”

“I think we can spare you for a moment, Lieutenant,” Picard said, the corner of his mouth twitching in suppressed amusement.

By the time the turbolift doors had closed, Deanna turned to Tasha, trying not to smile. “That wasn’t very professional.”

“Probably not,” she said, “but I wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”

“I’m fine,” Deanna said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I wish I’d had more time to spend fixing my hair this morning, but I’m actually feeling less nervous than I have been.”

“Your hair looks fine.”

“Says the person with an easy-to-take-care-of hairstyle, and hair that behaves itself.”

Tasha laughed. “Fair enough. But aside from that, how was your meeting with the other captain?”

“Not as terrible as I expected,” Deanna said. “I was prepared for an awkward exchange filled with horrifying revelations, but it actually reassured me. I’ve been feeling more grounded since then.”

Tasha grabbed Deanna’s hand. “That’s good to know.”

Deanna wanted to reach up and kiss Tasha, but she felt the turbolift slow. “The door’s about to open,” she whispered, letting go of Tasha’s hand with a brush of her fingers against her palm.

“Oh, is it?” Tasha said, winking at her just as the doors hissed open.

Deanna strode into engineering, feeling proactive and comforted, Tasha at her side.

Geordi, Data, Wesley, and one of the ship’s many rotating chief engineers--Argyle, perhaps?--clustered around a large display, arguing over something.

Tasha leaned over. “I do actually need to review the safety procedures,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

Deanna brushed a hand on Tasha’s shoulder as they parted ways, and Deanna strode toward the group. She had sensed the growings of unease in engineering on the bridge, and was expecting merely a tense atmosphere that she knew she might be able to help diffuse, but she hadn’t been expecting a full-on argument.

Geordi spun around at her approach, startled. “Counselor.”

“May I be of any help?” she asked, glad that her arrival had halted the argument in its tracks.

“No, Counselor,” Geordi said. “Everything’s fine.”

Data spoke up, his voice calm and level. “Everything is not fine, Geordi.” He turned to Deanna. “There is a dispute over the effectiveness of the procedure.”

Deanna turned to chief Argyle, a bearded, no-nonsense engineer who was generally fairly level-headed. He shook his head, exasperated. “I just don’t think this is going to work,” he said, sounding both frustrated and a little sad. 

“But I don’t think the other ship being from another timeline will affect anything,” Geordi insisted.

“What evidence do you have to support that?” Data asked.

“Don’t you turn against me, too, Data,” Geordi said.

Deanna stepped forward. “I think it’s a valid question.”

Geordi deflated. “To be honest, I don’t have any evidence, but based on the evidence we _do_ have, it doesn’t seem like the ship’s timeline of origin would affect things either way.”

“That’s merely a guess,” Argyle said, shaking his head.

“Well how about this,” Deanna said, keeping her voice calm. “What evidence do you have to support your position, Chief?”

Argyle nodded. “The quantum vibrations of the other ship won’t match ours. I believe that could introduce unstable side effects if the two ships are brought too close together.”

“But the warp fields would protect them,” Wesley said, moving around to be seen between Data and Geordi’s shoulders. “I think it’ll still work!”

“Not now, kid,” Argyle said, shaking his head again.

Data spoke up. “Wesley has a point, Chief.” He reached over and brought up a simulation showing the two ships. “It is the interaction between the two warp fields that will seal the breach. The conflicting quantum signatures of the two ships will not contribute in any measurable way to that effect.”

Argyle sighed. “I still think it won’t work.”

Deanna nodded. “I thank you for voicing your concerns,” she said. “It is my planet we’re talking about saving. But would it help if I brought these concerns to Captain Picard and asked him to make the final decision?”

Geordi let out a breath. “I hate to put that decision on his shoulders.”

Deanna smiled. “He is the captain, after all. Big decisions are part of his job.”

“I do not believe we have enough information to be sure that either option would be successful, Counselor,” Data said.

“Well, the two choices are try and do nothing,” she said, suppressing an icy shudder at the second choice. “How about this, what would be the effect of the two ships’ quantum signatures interacting?”

Argyle shrugged. “Who can say?”

“Your best guess.”

He held up two fists. “My best guess would be either that the other ship would be snapped back to their own reality intact.” He pulled one fist away from the other sharply. “Or, it would be destroyed during the violent shift between timelines, crushed by temporal tidal forces.” He mimed an explosion with the other fist.

“So, if we do nothing,” Deanna said, “both ships will remain intact, but the planet will eventually slip away.” She took a steadying breath. “And if we make an attempt, the planet may be saved, but the other ship may be destroyed.”

Data gave her an innocent look. “It is a most distressing conundrum.”

“Yes,” she said. Then after a brief pause, she said, “I don’t think I can speak for my whole planet, but I personally think that making the attempt would be worth it if there was a way to ensure that the other ship was protected from our own unique quantum signature.” She turned to Data. “What do you think?”

“A low level chroniton field may serve to insulate the ships from one another while allowing the warp fields to interact, but I do not believe we could hold it for very long as the drain on the ship’s power reserves would be immense.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Argyle said, nodding as he consulted the display. “Even if it was brief, it would give us some kind of stopgap measure.”

Deanna nodded. “I’m going to present this to Captain Picard. We’ll let him have the final say.”

“Thanks for coming down, Deanna,” Geordi said. “I guess we’re all so mired in numbers and probabilities, we lost track of what was at stake.”

“It’s okay.” She smiled and nudged him with a shoulder. “Now get back to work. That’s my planet out there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Geordi and Argyle said. Data merely gave her an approximation of an impressed look, which she appreciated.

Before she left, she pulled Geordi aside and, keeping her voice low, said, “You should definitely submit a request to join the engineering team. You’ve got a great feel for this sort of thing. And I’ve noticed you feel so much more . . . enthusiastic about your job when you’re down here.”

Geordi laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, counselor. Mind repeating that speech to the captain?”

“I could, if you’d like.”

His expression blanked. “No no, you don’t need to . . . I mean, I’d like to do that myself. Some day. I would look good in gold, though . . .” He trailed off.

She nodded. “Don’t sell yourself short. Goodbye, Geordi.”

***

Back on the bridge, Deanna felt her pulse go up when she delivered her report to Picard. She had expected a definite answer, a confident plan of attack, but instead he sighed heavily and she saw his shoulders sag. “I was hoping our chances of success would be more definite.” He turned to her. “What do you think, Counselor?”

“Me, sir?”

“You saw the evidence. What’s your opinion?”

Her shoulders mirrored Picard’s. “I don’t know, sir. I think the people of Betazed would support an attempt. I know they wouldn’t want to endanger the other _Enterprise_ , but Geordi’s suggestion sounds like it would help.”

Picard sighed again. “Well, then, Counselor, as you are the only Betazoid aboard at present, I think it only prudent that the final decision be yours. But only if you feel comfortable with such a decision.”

“I can’t say I feel comfortable about the idea,” Deanna admitted. “But if we can take steps to protect the other ship, then the only fallout would be displacement. No deaths. Only a replacement of one world with another. The transition would be strange, but there would be no loss of life, and the other ship might return back to its correct timeline.” And then another thought came to her: an image of her father. If they failed, she may have a chance to get to know her father all over again. She could tell him about her life, about everything she’d accomplished. He could inspire her the way he had Captain Troi.

But then she stopped. He would lose his daughter as much as she gained a father. 

“I,” she began, feeling suddenly sick. “I don’t know if I can make this decision.”

“Permission to speak, Captain,” came a familiar voice behind her.

Picard rose. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

Tasha looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t believe it’s fair to place this decision on Counselor Troi’s shoulders.”

Deanna turned to her girlfriend and gave her a weak smile. “It’s alright, T . . . Lieutenant.”

“I’m not accustomed to having my orders questioned,” Picard began, “however, I am aware of the emotional stakes of such an attempt. I will make a decision if necessary, but I believe the counselor is perfectly capable of making this decision.”

“Yes, sir,” Tasha said, sounding somewhat chastened. “It’s just that . . . it’s an impossible decision, isn’t it?”

“That it is,” Picard said, then turned back to Deanna. “If you wish, I will give the order to make the attempt.”

It was up to her. Picard would give the order, but she knew the choice was hers. How could she choose between certainty and doubt? It was obvious, wasn’t it? If they did nothing, nobody’s lives would be threatened, and she would get her father back. But if they tried to restore the planets, there was a chance the other _Enterprise_ would be destroyed. The choice was life or possible death. It seemed completely obvious. And yet.

In that moment, Data returned to the bridge and resumed his station. There was something some matter of fact of his presence, a reminder of a world in which facts, not emotions dictated probabilities. As always, his presence calmed her. He had no emotional aura, no expectations. Only a desire to learn and grow, carried out in a realm of pure logic.

She swallowed. “We should try to return the planet to its proper timeline.” Her voice didn’t shake, and her eyes stayed stubbornly dry. 

Picard nodded. “Agreed.” Then he tapped his combadge and said, “Engineering, you have a go.” Turning to Tasha he said, “Hail the _Enterprise_.”

“Channel open.”

Captain Troi’s face filled the screen. 

“Captain,” Picard began. “We are ready to begin.”

“Thank you, Captain Picard,” she said. “We’ve finished the modifications.”

“We are going to be releasing a low-level chroniton field so as to shield your ship from our own quantum signature, which should protect your vessel from interacting with ours.”

“My own engineer came to the same conclusion,” Troi said. “Good luck.”

“To you as well.”

Once the transmission ended, Picard nodded to Worf at the helm who moved the forward, toward the anomaly. On the screen, the other ship followed suit, maneuvering into position.

A sudden wash of dizziness his Deanna as they crossed the border of the anomaly’s effect, cutting her off once again from her empathic powers.

“Sensors are gone, sir!” Worf said.

“Steady as she goes, Mister Worf,” Picard said. 

“The shielding around the warp core appears to be holding,” Data said, even as his own terminal began to blank out from the anomaly’s effect. “We have lost communications and sensors, but the warp engine and deflector are shielded. All systems automated and, as far as I can tell, functioning adequately.”

“And thus we wait,” Picard said, his voice awed.

Deanna’s hands clutched at her knees, her heart racing. At this point, there was no turning back. They would either succeed or fail. There was nothing she could do. She looked back over her shoulder at Tasha, who, she noticed, was looking down at her, her face calm, but her eyes pained. She voiced a silent “I love you,” at her girlfriend, not caring who saw her.

Tasha blinked, then her eyes widened, and then a sudden blush in her cheeks preceded the smile that broke through her expression. For that moment, there was no threat of death, no fear of failure. There was only Tasha’s smile. Its light blotted out the strange colours of the anomaly, shining through the bleak uncertainty of Deanna’s mind and leaving her feeling suddenly giddy.

“I love you, too,” Tasha mouthed.

Deanna nodded. And then turned back to the viewscreen.

The anomaly blotted everything out. The sliver of her planet was shimmering, its edges wavering as though merely a heat mirage, a memory of something lost.

“Are we in position?” Picard said as they slowed.

“No way to tell, Captain,” Data said. “Sensors are completely inoperative.”

“Let’s see what these Galaxy-class starships can do,” Picard murmured, mantra-like, as though reciting something he had heard before.

There was a sudden shudder, a great tremble not only of the ship, but of everything, a deep primal shake of Deanna’s own atoms. The screen’s interference grew so great that all she could see was static. The tremble grew. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she imagined a great, reality-tearing explosion in slow motion, a tidal wave of awesome power threatening to pulverize them all into dust.

The trembling was followed by a deep, irritating vibration, a tickling that ran through her limbs, as though taking her apart piece by quantum piece. It grew, traveling along her limbs toward her chest, snaking through her lungs and into her heart, organs squirming within her, desperate for escape. She couldn’t gasp, couldn’t scream, couldn’t exist…

And then suddenly, reality jolted as though landing at the bottom of a turboshaft, and she found herself leaning forward, nearly falling from her chair, feeling nauseated and breathless.

“Captain!” a voice called out. Was it Worf, she thought?

Struggling to right herself without vomiting, Deanna’s world tilted grotesquely as she uncurled, blinking the universe back into some semblance of order. The first thing she noticed, oddly, was that Worf was sitting upright as though nothing had happened. The second thing she noticed was that she could sense the emotions of the bridge crew again.

The third thing she noticed was that the viewscreen was working and it showed the other _Enterprise_ , the front end of its saucer arcing across the viewscreen like the horizon of a metal planet.

“Is everybody--” Picard began, but he was cut off by a burst of alarms.

“Captain, the chroniton field has failed!”

Deanna’s eyes widened.

“Back us away, Lieutenenat!” Picard barked.

But a sudden jolt of rippling energy arced across the other ship’s hull, the energy blinding this close to them. As the _Enterprise_ backed away, Deanna had a single moment to finally see the whole ship in its entirety before the energy collapsed in on itself, taking the other ship with it in a sudden explosion of white light.

And then it was gone.

The bridge fell horrifyingly silent, no one breathing or saying anything. Everyone stood frozen in horror.

And then finally, his voice nearly cracking, Picafrd asked, “What happened to them?”

Data spoke up, his fingers moving across his newly functioning console. “The ship interacted with our quantum field, and has been . . .” Data trailed off, then turned in his seat. “I cannot say whether it was destroyed or sent back to its proper timeline. There is no debris. So it may be possible that the ship survived.”

“But we’ll never know,” Picard said, his voice pointedly calm.

Deanna felt tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. There had been such a rush of terror from the other ship moments before the explosion. If they had gone home, surely that would not have been their reaction. Had the captain called abandon ship? Had everyone died without understanding why? The lack of any sort of answer bothered her deeply. She rose from her seat.

“What about Betazed?” she asked, moving to be near Data.

Data brought up a serene image on the viewscreen. A single planet, floating in the dark backdrop of stars. No anomaly. No second world. “The anomaly has been closed,” Data said. “Scans indicate that this is the Betazed from our own timeline.”

The tragedy of losing the other ship was joined by the joy that her planet was safe.

She nodded simply, turned, and moved back to her chair in a daze, and then, sitting down, the emotion of both events crashed into her, like two ocean waves meeting in a storm.

And Deanna wept.


	20. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Deanna searches for answers

Titan 2379

   _“Do you ever wonder,” Troi asked as she sat eating dinner with her husband, “what happened to that other_ Enterprise _?”_

_He stopped eating and looking up, frowning. “Which one? If I recall, we’ve encountered other_ Enterprises _quite a bit throughout our years together.” He smiled, then took a sip of champagne. “I don’t know what’s worse, that it happened so much or that I’m not even phased by the idea anymore.”_

_She nodded. “It was our first year on the D. The incident with the dual Betazeds.”_

_“Oh right,” he said, sitting back, chewing a steamed mussel thoughtfully. “That was a weird one.” He stopped chewing and drew his brows together. “I don’t think I was on the bridge when that happened. Where was I?”_

_Deanna looked at him. “That’s a good question. Were you in Engineering helping Geordi and Argyle?”_

_“I think I was. You know I can’t remember.”_

_“It was before the beard,” she said, mock serious. “That might explain the inaccurate memory.”_

_Will leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “If you add that statement to my personal record as an official evaluation from the ship’s counselor, I will be forever in your debt.” He leaned back. “My memory from those years is fuzzy. All I remember is how stern and serious I was. It was terrible.” His expression changed. “What brought this on, exactly?”_

_Deanna shrugged. “I’ve been thinking of those days a lot recently. Losing Data hit me pretty hard, and I guess my mind went back to when things started with Tasha and comparing how it felt when I lost her.”_

_He nodded. “I understand. It’s hit me hard, too.” He reached over and took another sip of champagne. “You know, if I recall correctly, and take that with a grain of salt, but I think I recall something Argyle said about detecting a momentary opening of the space-time continuum that read on the sensors a lot like when that duplicate ship appeared in the first place.” He shrugged. “So maybe they made it home alright.”_

_She returned his nod. “I hope so.” She felt a sudden chill. “Do you remember when Captain Picard told us about that time when he was jumping between timelines to seal that anti-time anomaly, and it took destroying two duplicate_ Enterprises _to pull it off?”_

_Will’s expression softened. “Deanna, don’t do this to yourself. Those ships were never destroyed. Once the anti-time fissure was sealed, things went back the way they were and that particular future never happened. There’s no point in dwelling on it.”_

_She took a breath. “I just brought it up because I know there’s this thought that alternate timelines and alternate universes don’t matter as much as ours because they’re separate. And I remember that, when we were about to seal the breach and save Betazed in that first year, Captain Picard gave me the choice to carry out our plan or not. And I remember that I almost told him to do nothing. I knew no lives would be lost, and the displaced people would be able to adapt. But I’d never see my mother, my own mother from this timeline, ever again. And all I can think about now is whether or not I’d make the decision I made again.”_

_"The thing is, you made the decision,” Will said. “And you restored Betazed, and the Hood . And your mother has been around to torment you for years as a result, and you’ve loved every minute of it. I think you made the right decision.”_

_“But what if that decision caused the destruction of a whole crew whose captain, another me, had sworn to protect?”_

_“I think dwelling on it won’t accomplish anything.”_

_“Do you think we’ll ever find out if they survived or not?”_

_Will looked suddenly sad. “I don’t know, Deanna. That was fifteen years ago.”_

_She had more questions, she knew she needed to talk it through, more, but she knew there was nothing she could accomplish here. She had served alongside Will Riker for years, as a friend, and then as a wife, but that particular event hadn’t involved him in any meaningful way. They were keeping their distance at that stage in their lives, allowing each to exist as an individual. Except, Deanna hadn’t been an individual, then. She had had Tasha._

_And now here, on this new ship with a primarily unfamiliar crew, she found herself intensely wishing she could speak to Tasha. And not a hologram. She felt the enormity of the loss come upon her suddenly, even though she had long ago moved on. The loss of the other Enterprise, it’s fate uncertain because of her decision, and then the loss of Tasha so soon after. It was as though the whole emotional year loomed behind her like a vast tombstone blotting out the sun, and she running about in its shadow, suddenly lost._

_She needed answers._

_“I need to look something up,” she said, rising from the table suddenly, startling Will._

_“Are you okay?”_

_“Not really, but I think this will help.” She moved over to him, placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, and kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry.”_

_He smiled up at her. “I never do.”_

***

_Engineering was oddly quiet at this time of day, but she appreciated being able to situate herself at a terminal out of the on-duty officers’ way. Chief engineer Nidani Ledrah, hanging around well after her shift had ended, approached her and asked if she needed help, but turned to leave when Deanna insisted that she was alright._

_“Actually,” Deanna said, turning suddenly. “You may be able to help.”_

_The Tiburonian engineer smiled and approached her. “Alright.”_

_“Do you know anything about temporal anomalies?”_

_“That’s a very general question,” Ledrah said. “Could you be more specific?”_

_“If I were an engineer, I could,” she laughed, turning to the console and bringing up the record from the Enterprise ’s mission. “It was displacing Betazed with a duplicate from another timeline. We reset things, but in the process, another_ Enterprise _from that same timeline vanished. I need to find out if it was destroyed or merely sent back to its own timeline.”_

_Ledrah’s eyes widened and she ran a hand thoughtfully over one of her large fanlike ears. “Here, let me see if I can cross-reference this with anything else.”_

_“I don’t want to keep you,” Deanna insisted._

_“Oh you’re fine,” Ledrah said. “I can’t sleep anyways. My bloodstream is currently ninety percent coffee.”_

_Deanna brought up the scans from the Enterprise . “We couldn’t figure out what happened to the ship at the time.”_

_“That doesn’t surprise me,” Ledrah said. “That was during the D’s first year, right?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“That_ Enterprise _’s sensors were pretty basic, compared to_ Titan _’s now. Sure, she got upgrades, but the dedicated hardware was relatively the same. Even the Intrepid-class ships were a major upgrade from the Galaxy-class.”_

_“Hey now,” Deanna said. “Be nice. That was my home for seven years.”_

_Ledrah held up her hands. “I’m just telling it like it is.” She paused. “Okay, here we go.”_

_“What?” Deanna asked, turning._

_“I’ve brought up the sensor readings from the moment the other ship disappeared. The official record, adapted from the_ Enterprise _logs classify it as an explosion, but it wasn’t actually.”_

_“What was it?”_

_“You know how matter can’t be created or destroyed?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Well, when matter leaves our universe, actually leaves it, it causes a sort of rearranging of local space to compensate. That’s not generally how the laws of physics work, so it can be pretty messy. If you change history, paradoxes fill in the gaps. And if you personally travel to another universe, the shockwaves are pretty minimal. But a whole ship? Did you ever hear about all that crazy Mirror Universe stuff?”_

_“I have, yeah.”_

_“It’s generally only been a person at a time or a small craft. But there’s talk that, way back in the day, more than one starship ended up there. Now that would have been crazy traumatic, producing all kinds of fallout in the area that it exited. I think that’s what happened. The residual chroniton field, and the quantum vibrations of the space surrounding the ship confirm it.”_

_“What are you saying?” Deanna asked._

_Ledrah smiled. “I think that other_ Enterprise _survived.”_

 

Enterprise D - 2364

    Deanna plucked the two flutes of champagne from the replicator and handed one to Tasha, who sat down. Deanna sat down next to her, took a sip, and sat back with a sigh.

    “Are you okay?” Tasha asked, running a hand down Deanna’s right arm, her touch gentle, but hesitant.

    “I don’t know,” Deanna said. “I feel completely drained. It’ll be a while before I can even process what happened.”

    “You saved your planet,” Tasha said. “That’s what matters.”

    “I don’t really want to talk about that, if you don’t mind,” Deanna said, leaning forward for another sip of champagne. “It’s all still so overwhelming, to me.”

    “That’s fair,” Tasha said. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

    “How about you?” Deanna asked.

    “Me?”

    “I want to hear about you. All I know is that you play parrises squares.”

    “You know a little more than that,” Tasha said. “You know I have a habit of breaking into people’s quarters and trying on their clothes.”

    “Will you stop bringing that up,” Deanna said, laughing.

    “I have to. It’s literally the least embarrassing thing I did that day.”

    “Oh really?”

    Tasha blushed, suddenly. “Let’s just say that there are two crewmembers on this ship whom I need to apologise to, eventually, once I get up the courage to actually admit that it happened.”

    “Well, now I am curious,” Deanna said, arcing an eyebrow.

    “And you’re going to remain curious forever,” Tasha said, moving closer to Deanna and leaning her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

    “Oh, are you trying to distract me, now?” Deanna said, tracing a line of Tasha’s hand.

    “Possibly.”

    “Fair enough.” Deanna raised her free hand to trace the line of Tasha’s jaw and then drew her toward her into a kiss, slow and unhurried, freed from everything that had been happening. There was no threat to her home planet, no ethical dilemmas, and her emotions had been worn so ragged that she had no energy left to worry at present. She was an exhausted husk, dried out and desperately needing rain and sunlight. Tasha’s eyes were cool rain and her hair was golden sunlight, and right now Deanna needed her more than ever before. She needed her to live, to exist. Without her, a stiff breeze would shudder what was left of her to dust and she would blow away, never able to coalesce into anything.

    As she kissed Tasha, she felt suddenly safe and whole. The emotional strain of her last mission retreating, waiting somewhere deep inside her for a time when she would be able to handle it. For now, she focused on the reality of the moment. She was safe, and her planet was safe, and Tasha was here. She was standing on a beach in paradise, knowing the water would be clean and refreshing.

    And so she jumped.

    Deanna pulled from the kiss, losing herself in Tasha’s eyes. “I know,” she began slowly, “that I am most likely feeling emotionally fragile after what just happened, and that you shouldn’t put too much stock in anything I tell you, but I wanted to say that I meant what I said on the bridge.”

    “What do you mean?” Tasha asked, drawing Deanna close, one arm around her waist, the other running a finger through her hair.

    “I do love you.”

    “Oh,” Tasha said. “That.” She paused. “I never doubted it, actually. I realize we were shoved together pretty fast, but I feel so . . . myself when I’m with you. You really helped me realize what it felt like to be comfortable in my own skin. What it felt like to face the future without fear.”

    “Really?” Deanna said, pulling away slightly. “I feel like I was an emotional disaster the whole time.”

    “You weren’t,” Tasha said. “You were strong and decisive. You made decisions when you needed to.”

    “I feel like I shut everyone out, including you. There were so many times when I wanted to step out of the moment and just be with you. I felt like I was ignoring you.”

    “You weren’t. We’re Starfleet officers. There are times when we need to switch off our emotions and do the job. But just so you know, every time you pulled away and focused on doing your job, I was nearby, watching you, shocked that I had somehow ended up with someone so capable and strong. I still don’t really believe that we’re together.”

    “Really,” Deanna said, pulling Tasha’s arm tighter around her. “Even when we’re sitting here like this? Even after we’ve admitted that we love each other, twice?”

    Tasha buried her face in Deanna’s hair. “Even if, years from now, we were still together, thinking about marriage, I’d probably still feel like I had missed something.”

    “Oh, are you a time traveler too?” Deanna asked, squirming as Tasha’s fingers brushed her throat. “You can see that far into the future?”

    “Oh yes,” Tasha said, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “I have a time machine and everything.”

    “Do you, now?” Deanna chuckled, and pulled Tasha in for another kiss. “What can you tell me about the future?”

    “Oh let’s see,” Tasha began, running her fingers through Deanna’s hair. “You’ll discover that I’m actually a cluttered disaster and insist that we spend more time in your own quarters. Also, you’ll figure out that I like to have music playing at all times.”

    “What kind?” Deanna asked.

    “Oh, anything with a Latin beat.”

    Deanna smiled. “Computer play something by Prinn. Half volume.”

    The computer chirped, and a sensuous drum beat began to dance around a woman’s voice singing in a lyrical language.”

    “Is that Andorian?” Tasha asked.

    “Yep,” Deanna said. “She likes blending styles. She likes Earth Latin rhythms, but she also uses a Klingon orchestra and Capellan drums at times.”

    “This is _fantastic!_ I must say I’m surprised.”

    “Oh?”

    “I never took you for someone who likes something so . . . saucy.”

    Deanna couldn’t help but laugh. “Saucy?”

    “I imagined Vulcan etudes or Bajoran ambient.”

    “I like quiet stuff, too. But I also like dancing.”

    “Oh? Is that an invitation?”

    “It could be.”

    “Aren’t you exhausted?”

    “Yes. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to dance with you. Computer, raise music to full volume.”

    The Andorian woman’s voice picked up just as the song moved into a swaying, sexy rhythm that reminded Deanna of the colourful wrap Tasha had tried on in her quarters all those days ago. Lightweight, vibrant, liberating, Deanna rose and pulled Tasha to her feet, and the two swayed together, bare feet whispering across the smooth carpet of her quarters, arms holding and leading each other in a mindless, delirious spiral of movement, lost in the moment of pure relaxation. Deanna opened her mind enough to sense Tasha’s delight, shaded with something more sultry, like a pulsing deep red beneath a bright layer of floral yellow.

    “You know, Ensign Rekta teaches a Salsa class,” Tasha said, “You’d be really good at that.”

    Deanna chuckled. “Where do you think I learned how to do this?” She drew Tasha closer, the swaying of their hips syncing up, their bodies pressed together. Deanna kissed Tasha’s cheek, feeling the heat of her flush against her lips.

    “You know,” Tasha said, her voice lower, conspiratorial. “We could explore other dance styles.”

    “That’s quite the cliche segue, but tell me more,” Deanna said, the corner of her lips curling.

    “How about I show you.” 

    The instant Deanna felt the tug against her arms, saw where Tasha was leading her, she flushed. “Can’t I let my hair down, first?”

    “No,” Tasha said, tightening her grip around Deanna’s waist as she led them toward the door to Deanna’s bedroom. “I’ll take care of that for you.”

    And so Deanna surrendered to joy, to bliss, and to relaxation. She surrendered to expectation, to nervousness, and to vulnerability. She surrendered to sensation, to wildness, and to freedom. She surrendered to Tasha Yar.

    And for the first time in a long while, she felt completely in control. 

    And all she could think about was what lay ahead, what possibilities existed between her and her girlfriend. Such beautiful things were in store for them.

    She just knew it.

   

 

 


	21. Epilogue - Dearly Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Happily Ever After?

Vagra II - 2364

    Deanna huddled in the crashed shuttle, too shattered to scream, even though no one could hear her. No one who mattered, she thought distantly. Armus could hear her, but he didn’t matter. He had no conscience, no soul. He was an accident, a castoff from others who had abandoned him. For a brief time, she had pitied him, thought he could be redeemed.

    But then he had killed Tasha, a childish lashing out at something he didn’t understand. A pointless moment of violence. An empty death.

    Deanna couldn’t even cry. It had been so senseless. She wanted to rage, to lash out with every psychic weapon in her arsenal. She wanted to burn this whole planet into a cinder, but she knew death would only be a release for Armus. It would only give him what he wanted. And it would destroy her own soul in the process, leave her as blackened and hollow as he was.

    And so she sat, and did nothing. Quietly grieving so far inside herself that Tasha’s killer wouldn’t be able to notice.

 

Enterprise D - 2365

    She knew that Ian wasn’t really dead. She had held him in her hands, a glowing speck of brilliant light, burning with nothing but curiosity and joy. He had thanked her, and then moved on to explore the galaxy, saving the _Enterprise_ from the unintended danger his presence triggered. 

    It wasn’t a death, but it was a loss, and all Deanna could think of as the small energy being drifted off into the infinity of space was that Tasha would have been such an incredible mother had she lived long enough to see young Ian.

    She could picture it as clearly as if she’d lived it, Tasha blearily getting up in the middle of the night to feed the child while Deanna enjoyed a few more minutes of rest before Tasha staggered into her room, holding the baby, announcing that he wasn’t in the mood for baby formula. She could see Tasha telling her she looked incredible even though she was a haggard, sweaty mess from chasing the toddler around her quarters, struggling to keep him from getting into things he wasn’t supposed to. She could see Tasha bursting into tears as the baby said his first word, turning reddened eyes to Deanna’s.

    And she realized suddenly that these weren’t mere fancies. The being who had been Ian had given her memories of a possible future, thanking her for allowing him to explore her world, if even for a short time.

    And Deanna wept.

 

Mintaka III - 2366

    Deanna stepped across the hot stones, grateful for her traditional Mintakan dress, which kept her cool despite the many layers. She had a mission to focus on, but all she could think of was the man walking just ahead of her. Will Riker didn’t look like himself, his facial features surgically altered to resemble the life forms native to this planet, and yet there was something else about him that was different, a warmth and maturity about him that she hadn’t noticed before. During his first year aboard the _Enterprise_ , he had been so stoic, so desperate to prove himself to Captain Picard. Now, two and a half years (and a full beard) later, he seemed so much more himself. 

    He reminded her of the man she’d said goodbye to many years before, but with an added layer of understanding and calm that he hadn’t had. She still thought of Tasha’s loss, but she had begun to allow herself to move on, and now she found herself suddenly bewildered that her attentions began to turn back to a man who had chosen career over her once already. It was merely just a crush, she told herself, a means of giving herself permission to move on from personal loss, nothing more.

    Tasha had been special. She knew she couldn’t dishonour the brief time she’d had with her by returning to a failed relationship. She didn’t need a rebound. She needed to remain alone.

    And yet...

 

Betazed - 2366

    “I think it’s around here somewhere,” Will Riker said, the wind ruffling his hair.

    “Maybe it died,” Deanna said, enjoying the radiant sun and the fragrant aroma of the Betazoid gardens. She felt a strange exhilaration that she hadn’t felt for quite some time, emotions stirred by her return to this planet. Except now, she felt like she was standing before a great door, unsure what lay beyond. A pathway to a new phase in her life, perhaps? Or a reminder of things best left behind. “It has been a few years.”

    “Muktok live for hundreds of years,” Will said, his tone easygoing. He crouched down, giddy with his discovery. “Here it is.”

    She looked at the fragrant bloom, sparkling with residual dew in the shade and crouched down next to Will. “It’s lovely.” She reached out and shook the flower, the bloom tinkling like a tiny bell. “I remember that sound, and all the good times we had.” She made a point to meet his eyes, and saw the silent response in his. 

    “I remember a certain junior officer meeting a very serious psychologist,” he said. “The best part about being assigned to Betazed.”

    And then she gave into the possibility of another future, and kissed Will Riker. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere, she needed to allow herself to feel that she could be happy again. He returned the kiss, never pressing her beyond her comfort zone. It wasn’t a kiss of true love. It was a kiss of past love, of mutual respect, and of the possibility of something in the future, when and if they were ready for it. It was a moment of peace and healing.

    And then her mother arrived.

 

Enterprise D - 2368

    The face on the screen stared arrogantly back at Deanna, familiar, yet twisted. Her breath stopped in her throat.

    “Tasha?” Picard asked, his voice breathless with shock.

    “No, Captain,” the woman said, her voice so eerily familiar, yet hardened in a way Tasha Yar’s had never been. “I am Commander Sela. The woman you knew as Tasha Yar was my mother.”

    Deanna felt as though she was going to faint. How could that have been? How had she never heard about Tasha having a baby? She wanted nothing more than to get up, leave the bridge, and retreat to a darkened corner far away from everyone else.

    Had she really ever known Tasha Yar? Deanna fought to contain the tears that stabbed salty blades into the corner of her eyes, and she listened to this ghost speak of a woman Deanna suddenly felt she hadn’t ever really known.

 

Enterprise D - 2369

    It was Will Riker, and yet it wasn’t. Deanna was reminded of her own meeting with her own double five years prior, that other Deanna a captain. This wasn’t Commander Riker, a close friend, this was Lieutenant Riker, a love from her past that she had moved on from, brought back to her via a freak transporter accident.

    A second chance, perhaps? 

    An opportunity to pursue something she had lost? She had lost Tasha, and Will was just a friend, but this man was still in love with her. The idea of pursuing it felt idiotic, yet at the same time, she felt like she was ready to move on and forge something new.

    In her own timeline, Will had chosen his job over a relationship, which she had respected, even if it had hurt her. This was a new timeline, a freak accident. Would this Will Riker make the same decision?

    She decided to take a chance.

 

Enterprise D - 2370

    “I died?” Deanna asked.

    Will shook his head. “Captain Picard didn’t say how. I don’t even think he knew.”

    “But this was another possible future,” Deanna said. “Surely it can’t happen the same way.”

    “Let’s hope not. But I also wanted to say . . .” Will looked suddenly uncomfortable, “If you want to pursue this relationship with Worf, I don’t want to stand in your way. I understand.”

    She nodded. “I don’t know if it will last. It was so wonderful at first, but I don’t really think Worf and I are a good fit. And knowing how he reacted in that other future . . . perhaps he needs to find someone else who’s more suited to him.”

    “Please don’t end things because of what Captain Picard said. For all we know, everything in those other futures was all Q’s doing. It may not actually happen.”

    She shook her head. “I need to take charge of my own career. I’m a Commander, now. I want to make something of my life. I think I need to focus on just myself, for now. As a single person.”

    “I can respect that,” Will said, his voice slightly sad. “It’s your own life, and your own choice.”

    “It is,” she said, nodding.

 

Enterprise E - 2375

    Deanna turned and leaned against the door to her office. She could hear Will outside lingering at her door for a bit before bounding off like a giddy puppy.

    What had just happened? He’d popped into her office like a jack-in-the-box, and then had begun talking in no uncertain terms about them getting back together, ending in a kiss that sent sparks shooting down her spine, even if she’d responded with “yuck!” and shoved him out the door, laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the moment.

    Could this really happen? Could they really restart something that was now nearly a decade gone? 

    And, another part of her asked, was she really ready to open herself up to the loss she’d suffered with Tasha? They were in a dangerous profession, and the loss of Tasha had devastated her, leaving her vulnerable and hurt. What if the same thing happened again? What if she was killed, and Will had to suffer what she had? 

    And yet, the timing seemed right. They had all moved on, and matured. Deanna was in a good place. Could she really invite Will back into that place?

    Her head spun with the giddiness of possibility, a reckless need to leap into the unknown and catch love for herself again. Will understood her and respected her. And he knew about Tasha. He hadn’t ever brought her up, out of respect for her privacy about their months together, but knowing that he knew, and that he didn’t mind, said something. That young Lieutenant long ago wouldn’t have understood, would have grown jealous. But this man, relaxed and mature, was different. He was someone Deanna felt completely comfortable with, something she hadn’t felt with anyone else save for Tasha.

    “On this ship, anything’s possible,” she’d said. Had she really meant it?

    She smiled, realizing that she absolutely had.

 

Earth - 2379

    Deanna sat, drinking champagne, and looking at everyone around her. At her family. At her husband, Will Riker, speaking to Geordi and Data, congratulating him on his rather unusual gift of a jazz standard, sung with the wedding band.

    She raised her glass and stared into it.

    “I still miss you, Tasha,” she whispered, meditating on the rising bubbles, magical yet ordinary. “And I want you to know that, had evil not pulled us apart, I would be watching you mingling with the guests right now. I still feel guilty for moving on, but I had to. I won’t ever forget the incredible time we had together, but I know that you would never want me to waste away, shriveling in grief forever. I know you’d want me to be happy, because I know that, when we were together, all I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” She brushed at a tear gathering at the corner of her eye. “I know you’d want me to move forward. To follow your example. And so I say that I love you, Tasha Yar. No goodbyes. Just good memories.” And then she took a sip of her champagne, feeling suddenly light-headed and open to the possibilities of the future.

    “Deanna?” a voice asked. She turned to see Guinan standing next to her. “Are you alright?” The woman’s wise, kind eyes held a deep empathy that made her seem almost Betazoid at times.

    “I am, Guinan,” she said, smiling through happy tears. “I really am.”

 

Enterprise E - 2379 (another timeline)

    Captain Deanna Troi stepped into the holodeck, the gorgeous woodland setting causing her shoulders to immediately relax. Birdsong drifted about, meandering between golden sunbeams filtering down through the lush boughs of emerald leaves that whispered above, serene and cloudlike.

    “Tasha?” she called, looking around.

    “Over here,” came the response, the voice sounding closer than it should have, were this a real forest and not a holographic projection. Deanna rounded a tree and smiled at the sight before her.

    “A picnic? Really?”

    Tasha grinned and flipped her ponytail over one shoulder. Deanna liked the new look, but was still having trouble getting used to the long-hair. It seemed so strange, and yet, like everything Tasha did, it seemed completely normal, as though Tasha had always had long hair in the sixteen years they’d been together. 

    “Yes,” Tasha said, “a picnic. I know you were probably expecting a resort on Casperia Prime, or a lavish hotel room on Risa. But since our honeymoon time is limited, I said, ‘let’s go for something simpler.’”

    Deanna sat down next to her wife, wishing she had time to change out of her uniform, the grey and black feeling oppressive in the sunny setting. But she was the captain, and sadly didn’t have the luxury of much downtime. In the years since the _Enterprise D_ had been destroyed by the Borg at Wolf 359, she had tried her best to make herself as available as possible to this crew on the new ship, itself already nearly a decade old. It had taken marrying her long-time girlfriend to make her realize that it was okay to be unavailable from time to time. Her first officer, Commander Data, was an accomplished exec, and she knew he would be able to handle anything that happened in the two hours she had booked off to spend with her wife of three whole weeks. And yet, she still felt the need to stay in uniform, just in case. As Tasha would say, she was slowly learning.

    “A picnic is perfect,” Deanna said, reaching into the basket to draw out a gorgeous chocolate soufflé. 

    “Hey, dessert after!”

    Deanna made a point to sigh heavily and set the soufflé down just to her right as Tasha handed her a plate of gorgeous canapés enveloped in fluffy pastry and sprinkled with herbs. She took one and nearly moaned out loud as the delicate pastry melted in her mouth. “These aren’t replicated?”

    “Nope,” Tasha said, grabbing one for herself. “I may have bribed Lieutenant Jinaa. He is incredible when it comes to handmade pastry.” 

    “These are incredible.”

    “Wait ‘til you try this,” Tasha said, handing Deanna a wineglass and pouring a shimmery rose-coloured wine into it. “It’s Mintakan. I can’t really pronounce the name, but it’s amazing.”

    “I didn’t know you cared for wine,” Deanna asked, taking a sip of the delicate liquid, which effervesced in her mouth, the vapour tasting of rich cherries.

    “I didn’t use to,” Tasha admitted. “But you’ve pulled me around somewhat.”

    “Oh, and has your opinion of chocolate changed?” Deanna winked at her.

    “I can’t say that it has,” Tasha said, smiling at the old argument rearing its head again. “Too rich, and too sweet, like I always say.”

    “Uh huh,” Deanna said, making a point to look serious and skeptical. “I’m still searching for the chocolate that you’ll like. It horrifies me that I may have married someone who doesn’t like chocolate.”

    “Well, last I checked, you _did_ marry me, so that means you’re stuck with me, and my chocolate-hating strangeness.”

    Deanna picked up the soufflé. “Well then that means I don’t have to share this with you at all.”

    Tasha shrugged. “That’s okay. I’ve got an Idanian spice pudding all to myself, then. And I won’t share that, either.”

    “You’re so mean,” Deanna said, smiling as she grabbed another canapé.

    “Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot. That’s why I switched to engineering. To be as far away from you as I can when I’m on duty.”

    “So mean.”

    They passed the next few moments in comfortable silence, dividing up the last of the picnic’s treats so they could get to dessert, birdsong sparkling in the space between them.

    “Tasha,” Deanna asked, after a moment, cutting into the chocolate soufflé and spooning a piece onto a small plate. “Do you ever wonder what happened to that other _Enterprise_?”

    “Which one?” Tasha asked, pouring herself a glass of a fruit cordial that smelled tart and floral. “We dealt with a lot of duplicate _Enterprises_ over the years.”

    “That first one,” she said. “Back during our second year, when Betazed slipped into that other timeline.”

    “Oh,” Tasha said, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. As far as I can recall, they remained in their proper timeline.”

    “I know that. I was just wondering how we--the other us--fared.”

    “Well, they were us, weren’t they? I would think they would have ended up like we did, though probably in different positions aboard the ship.”

    “I suppose,” Deanna said. I just found myself thinking about them recently. I don’t know why. I hope they’re okay.”

    “They’re doing fine,” Tasha said, leaning over to kiss her wife on the mouth. “And so are we.”

    Deanna reached up and ran her hands through Tasha’s hair, letting the strands of golden hair twine between her fingertips. “You’re right,” said, smiling. “We are.”

    And in that moment, nothing else existed except for the sunlight and the birdsong.

    And the two of them, waiting on the edge of a beautiful future that was laid out before them, filled with such beautiful things that they could hardly wait to experience it all together.

    And it was a perfect moment.

 

The End

   


End file.
